101 Damnations
by Lili and RayRay
Summary: What happens when you put all the nations together in one house and leave them to fend for themselves? Chaos, pandemonium, and perhaps the beginnings of WW III... GerIta, Spamano, SuFin, OCs. Chapter 8: "Day 2: You mean it wasn't just a dream? D8"
1. Welcome to the Hotel Hetalia

**This fic is pure crack. I know the idea of having all the nations living together has been used before, but those fics mostly involved just the Hetalia characters and I wanted to expand on the concept of having ALL the nations together. (I think the house is going to explode.) And so, here you go, a healthy dose of my brain-shit after weeks of grueling IB work.**

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"_Sir, we can't go on like this. Sooner or later this debt merry-go-round will collapse and the economic world will plunge into peril! We _must_ do something to reduce spending right now!"_

"_I like cheesecake~~ Ahem, I mean, of course! But how? If we cut spending some part of the population will riot, and if we increase taxes they'll riot anyways. We're trapped between a rock and a hard place."_

"_Ve~! Boss, boss, I just made a giant tower out of pasta! Wanna see?" cried Italy as he burst into the room._

_The president and prime minister exchanged looks._

"_Napolitano, I think I'm getting an idea…"_

"This is all your fault, damn it!" Romano grumbled as he maneuvered the car through the narrow streets. Beside him, in the passenger's seat, Italy was fiddling with a zipper on his jacket. "If you hadn't gone and jumped in at that moment, we'd still have our houses right now! And, what's worse, th-the tomato b-bastard's b-boss decided t-to do the same th-thing and w-we're l-living together n-now…"

"Ve, it wasn't just Spain-niichan, I think! Doitsu's boss kicked him out too!"

Romano facepalmed. "Damn you, Veneziano…"

"But I like living with Doitsu! And don't you like being with Spain-niichan too?"

"Sh-shut up!"

They continued to their destination without another word. When the mansion came into view Romano suddenly braked. Italy squeaked as the seat belt rudely yanked on his shoulder. "Wait, what?" he muttered. "I thought we were supposed to live more frugally… Veneziano, what's going on?"

"I thought you told me to shut up, ve."

"Ugh. Fine, I don't want you to shut up, _ve_. Now tell me what you know."

Just then, another car drove past them and pulled into the driveway of the mansion.

"Was that…?"

"Ve, that person drove like England!" said Italy. "But that's not England's car…"

"What business do they have at this house?" Romano mused.

Another vehicle, a battered old minivan this time, passed them and drove into the driveway as well.

"What the heck…?" Romano eased his foot off the brake and followed them.

"I think I remember," said Italy. "Boss was talking with a lot of other bosses all around the world about his idea!"

"…Shit. That can't be good."

When they reached the front door they were promptly greeted by Spain. "Lovi! Ita-chan!" he chirped, hugging them. "You finally made it! Hey, guess what Lovi? We're sharing a room! Isn't that great?" He tried to hug Romano again but the Italian wriggled out of his grasp.

"What the hell is going on here, Spain?" he demanded. "Why are we living in this huge place when our bosses wanted to _cut_ spending? Why the hell are they seizing our houses anyway? And what's with all the people who keep turning up here?" He gestured at the van. His eyes widened. "Oh shit."

Mexico, who had just popped out of the backseat, spotted Romano and cursed. "Fuck, why does _he_ have to be here?"

The England-like driver stepped out. "Oy, mates, how's it going?"

"_Papá~~~~~~_" Mexico cried as he launched himself at the Spaniard. "I haven't seen you since the last world conference! I've missed you so much! You won't believe how mean America's being to me! Wah, I don't want to live under the same roof as him! _Papá_, you'll protect me right?"

Romano grabbed him by the collar and pried him off. "You little turd, get the hell off him!" he snarled.

Italy spotted someone inside the building. "Ve! Ethiopia!" He ran off, grinning.

Mexico pouted. "Why should I? You're the one who should back off!"

Australia blinked. "I haven't missed much, have I."

"Nope," said Honduras as she climbed out of the van. "They're still at it."

It was then that another car pulled up behind them and a twelve-year-old tumbled out, his hair and clothes a disheveled mess. "What the fuck, you shithead!" he was yelling at someone inside the vehicle. "Get away from me! I can comb my hair myself! Stop manhandling me, you jackass! You're the worst brother in the world! I hate you!" He stormed up the front steps and pushed past Romano and Mexico. "Hi Señor Romano. Hi Spain. Stop picking fights with people, Juan." He went into the house without a backward glance at the young man in the car who was staring at him in stunned silence.

"You little twerp!" Mexico called after him. "How dare you lecture me!"

Chile sighed as he began unloading the car. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Ecuador shrugged as he helped his brother. "At least he doesn't swear at you every time you see him."

"He _does_."

"Oh. My bad."

Romano and Mexico finally stopped fighting when Spain raced down the steps to hug the two South American nations. "Yamai! Pablo! Great to see you! How have you been?" He also jumped the two girls who got out of the car. "Guadalupe! Ayelén! Hooray, you're all here!"

Chile smiled. "It's nice to see you too, Dad," he said.

Romano's eye twitched. Damn that Spaniard and his giant horde of, as Brazil had put it, "demon spawn."

Mexico took off after him, whining. "_Papá… Papá…_"

"Hey! Bastard, stop right there!" Romano gave chase.

"Ah, geez, what's with all this fighting? We just got here!" said Croatia, covering his ears as the two started bickering again.

"Not to worry! The hero will save the day!" America announced, popping out of nowhere.

"…Where the hell did you come from?"

"England's tummy~~~~!" he replied as he raced to the rescue, pulling the Italian and the Mexican apart.

Croatia facepalmed. "Elizabeta, we're all screwed."

Hungary patted his shoulder sympathetically. "It's all right. We still have each other… and a whole house of horny homosexual bishounen to watch over, mwahahahahahahahahahahaha…"

Croatia sighed.

Speaking of homosexual, the Nordics had just arrived and Sweden was carrying Finland into the house like a newlywed. "Su-san, this is so embarrassing…" the smaller nation whined. "Please put me down…" But he was too scared to take action against the stoic blond.

The United Arab Emirates was busy praying to Allah to let him survive his tortuous stay in this hellhole. Qatar joined him shortly.

Bahrain was there too, but no one seemed to notice. Canada felt a twinge of pity for the tiny nation.

Indonesia was making up puns involving Iran's name and had to run for her life when the incensed Middle East country pulled a gun on her.

And Germany, who had been the first to arrive and had sat through all the chaos, finally snapped.

"LISTEN UP HERE, YOU [censored]!" he thundered, slamming his fists on the coffee table.

Silence rippled through the crowd. Everyone turned to the angry blond who was panting from his sudden outburst. Italy beamed, having finally found the nation, and began making his way toward him, but stopped abruptly when Germany started yelling again. "I want everyone seated in nice neat rows here in two minutes! Do you hear me? Move, move!" He lashed his fist about threateningly as the other countries fearfully obliged.

"Now," he said gruffly, when everyone had sat down and was listening intently to him, "As you all know, we've been relocated to this mansion to help beat the economic crisis—what?" he snapped as Mexico's hand shot up.

"Can I trade places with Romano?" the teenager said.

Germany sighed. "No."

"But I don't like sitting beside Venezuela! He's evil!"

Venezuela punched him.

"See?"

"_Gott…_Fine…" Germany froze when he saw Romano's murderous glare. "You can trade with my _bruder_ instead." Prussia, sitting on the other side of Spain, scowled.

"What? Hey, no fair, West, _I_ don't wanna sit next to that—"

Venezuela threw Mexico at him.

"Okay. There. Problem solved. Now. Let's move on." Germany felt his patience draining away like water in a sink. "I know that _some_ of you," he gave Romano and Mexico a look, "don't get along well, but since we're all living under the same roof it's imperative that we make up some rules so everyone can get by. Holy— Panama, Colombia, stop necking! Good lord, what is wrong with you lot?"

Romano raised a hand. "What is it?" Germany muttered through gritted teeth.

"I don't get it. So, we've _all_ been crammed under the same roof?"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"And I assume our houses have been sold to generate revenue for the government?"

Germany nodded.

"And we don't even get a room to ourselves?"

"Unfortunately so."

"Oh hell! Pinch me, I must be dreaming! I don't wanna stay here with these creepy people! Spain! Spain! He's kidding, right?"

A sad look came across the Spaniard's face. "I'm afraid not…"

Romano burst into tears. "I hate economic crises!" Spain hugged him reassuringly, triggering an angry response from Mexico.

"Ve, I want to be roommates with Doitsu!" Italy latched on to the German's arm.

The crowd began murmuring. Some were loudly protesting their sudden change in housing, others were sizing up potential roommates, and a few were fighting off annoying people (as China was doing with South Korea). Germany groaned. Nations. Who knew they were so uncooperative?

It was right then that Russia entered, with the Baltics shuffling nervously behind him. "Sorry I'm late, da?"

* * *

**Character overviews~~**

**You guys already know the canon ones so I'll just skip right to the fanmade characters. **

**Mexico (Juan Cortes Carriedo): a hyper 15-year-old who clings to Spain whenever they meet. Badmouths America all the time, and makes a sport out of sneaking over the border and booby-trapping the White House. He and Romano are constantly fighting for Spain's attention.**

**Ethiopia: Meh, not much to say about him. Haven't settled on anything yet.**

**Honduras: an outgoing, energetic girl, about the same age as Mexico. Likes to pull pranks on Guatemala and Nicaragua. It's rumored she and Mexico are dating, though they both deny this. The memory of Hurricane Mitch makes her cry.  
**

**Peru (Huayna Capac): 12-year-old, somewhat schizo boy who acts stoic most of the time, except towards his brothers Chile and Ecuador. Is suspected to have a sister complex.  
**

**Chile (Yamai de Valdivia): 18-year-old who makes it his duty to care for his other siblings, sometimes a bit too much. He and Peru have a love-hate relationship.**

**Ecuador (Pablo Atahualpa Carriedo): Chile's brother, somehow also the object of Peru's wrath. He, Chile and Argentina get along especially well.  
**

**Bolivia (Guadalupe Bolivar): Peru's older sister, a 16-year-old who enjoys dancing and designing clothes. Constantly teases Argentina.  
**

**Argentina (Ayel****é****n de Cisneros): a soft-spoken, caring girl who is especially fond of Peru. Enjoys playing soccer and beating the crap out of her siblings and Latin American cousins.  
**

**Croatia: Hungary's friend, probably the only sane nation in all of Europe. Hangs out with Bosnia and Herzegovina (affectionately called Herzé).**

**United Arab Emirates, or UAE: Stoic nation going through an identity crisis due to all the immigrants in his country. He and Saudi Arabia are rivals.**

**Qatar: Mu, haven't decided much about him yet.**

**Bahrain: The Canada of the Middle East, due to his small size. Enough said.**

**Indonesia: Another one I haven't decided on yet.**

**Iran: Ditto.**

**Venezuela: Gung-ho South American who won't hesitate to use violence to make people behave. He and Guyana enjoy bothering Brazil.**

**Brazil: Not really mentioned in the first chapter, but as the only one in the continent who's not Spain's child, he detests them (calls them "demon spawn", remember?). The only thing he's not sullen about is Portugal.**

**Panama and Colombia: The fact that I decided to state them at the same time should indicate something...**

**The end~~**

**Notice how only some South American nations have human names so far. They're from another fic I'm working on...  
**

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**If there are countries you would like included in here, let me know! It's so hard keeping track of all 200-something of them. You can expand on some of the nations listed above, or give me a brief synopsis of your idea and I'll work with it to the best of my ability. If I somehow managed to screw up their names or their relationships with one another (because I didn't do my research beforehand, hahaha)... oh man, I knew I shouldn't have typed this up at 2 in the morning. Your feedback will be much appreciated :3**


	2. Because everyone loves awkward roommates

**Woot! Second installment!**

**A note about the title: First, there's the very visible similarity to "101 Dalmatians." Which is where I got the idea in the first place, to reflect the sheer number of countries stuck in that house. Then it's the word "damnation," which sums up the horrors they go through having to live together. And, finally, a recap of the two things together, "101 Damn Nations." I actually hadn't noticed that third one until I'd typed out the title. XD**

**Updates: Due to the very insightful observation of ****Artemis Queen of the Stars****, I am changing some of the characters' ages. Chile and Ecuador are getting booted up several years to 22 and 21, respectively. Bolivia is 17, Argentina is 19, and Peru is being Peter Pan. Since we're on the subject of ages, I'll describe a little how I determine them. It's not only how long the nation's been around that helps me decide, but also the Human Development Index, i.e. how well off the country is in terms of the economy and life expectancy and things like that. The country's potential to develop further (resources, development trend etc.) is also considered, and finally there's the Surprise Element of my own impressions on the country (mostly random and based on name). So that's why some of them will seem like anachronisms, e.g. Argentina being older than Peru when the Viceroyalty of Peru was established first. **

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"Right," said Germany, when the countries eventually settled down again. "Now that that's through, let's discuss housing."

"Just a minute, kraut," England piped up, "who died and made you the king? You have no right to order the rest of us around!"

"I second that," said Austria, scowling.

Germany glared at them. "And just what were you two doing before?"

The two went quiet as they remembered:

"_You lot, shut up! I can't hear my piano over your infernal yelling!"_

"_Flying Mint Bunny! Let's play Hide and Seek! Whee~~~"_

Germany crossed his arms. "Exactly."

"Um, If—I—could—sort of—interrupt here, please…" Canada began, but no one seemed to notice.

UAE looked at him. "Who are you?" said the Emirati. Then, "Who am I?"

Canada sighed. "I'm Canada, and you're the United Arab Emirates," he explained.

"Really? I feel more like China or India, though."

"Well, still," England continued, "it's unfair to everyone else to let one person be in charge. I say you delegate some of this authority."

"Agreed~!" France purred, sidling up to the German. "As top-notch nations with bustling economies and long, rich histories, I suggest we, ah, guide our comrades along the path to well-being. Of course, it's a task that no one man can do alone, so, dear _Allemagne_, if you would kindly allow us to—"

"Weren't you the one streaking naked through the halls?"

"Uh! W-well, th-that has nothing to do with the matter at hand! U-um—"

Germany sighed. "Fine, whatever. But no fooling around during important discussions!"

France grinned. "I knew you were an easily manipulated—oops, I mean, reasonable man!"

Germany glowered at him. "We'll decide on leadership later," he said. "Right now, let's have everyone settle in. I had Italy compile a list of countries, which was probably a bad idea but I won't go into that right now. For now we'll organize you by continent, because certain nations get culture shock and collapse of epilepsy all the time." He looked at Japan, who turned away guiltily. "Oh yeah, and until things settle down a bit, we'll be keeping tabs on you, to make sure everyone's here. Switzerland will be assigning you each a roommate."

"This really makes me consider canceling my neutrality," the nation grumbled as he skimmed the paper Italy had procured. "Italy, your handwriting sucks. Let's see… Liechtenstein, Switzerland. Done. The rest I'll just match up randomly…"

* * *

"Lovi…" Spain moaned. "Lovi, I'm so sorry, I thought we'd get to choose but then Germany decided to be mean…" He was standing with his head against the wall, as though praying, or talking to some unseen person on the other side. "Lovi, I miss you already… Just my luck, to be stuck with…" He hiccoughed.

"What's wrong, Spain?" Russia looked at the Spaniard with concern. "Is your back bothering you? Shall I massage it, da?"

Spain shuddered. "I-I'm fine, thanks…"

...

"Brotherrrrrrrrr!" shrieked Belarus. "Brother, how are we going to get married now?" She glared at her reluctant roommate. "Curses! This is all your fault! You and that damn Spain, keeping me from my beloved brother! I'll kill you both!"

Sweden shrugged and continued unpacking. How unlucky he was to get landed with this psychotic bitch. Oh well, at least Fin was safe.

...

"Cheesecake!" cried Finland. "U-um, I mean hi! I'm Finland!" He stuck his hand out. The scowling nation in front of him scrutinized it, then grudgingly shook hands with him. "I hope we can get along!" Finland added, with a small bow.

"Mm," said Albania. "Nice to meet you." He brought out a food container from his suitcase. "Baklava?"

"Oh! Thanks!"

"Nikola made it for me. He's a good cook, isn't he?"

"Yes, he's terrific!"

...

"Uwa! This is wonderful!" chirped Croatia as he launched himself onto his bed. "We're so fortunate, Herzé! Way to slip that stuck-up Swiss snob some quiche! I can finally rest easy knowing my roommate's not going to asphyxiate me in my sleep!"

Herzegovina grinned. "Same here, Nik!" She sat down beside him. "I feel kinda bad for Elizabeta though. When we're allowed to switch roommates we should help her find someone better."

"Agreed!"

...

Hungary could not believe Switzerland had actually been so mean as to put her with France. Didn't that stupid Swiss know about that wine-loving nation's bisexual tendencies? But then again, she had her frying pan with her, and she at least could protect herself. _Cheer up,_ she told herself. _I saved a poor hapless nation from rooming with this freak._ Smiling to herself, she went to check out the bathroom and screamed when France jumped out of the closet with no clothes on. Not even the rose between his legs. "What the heck, Francis! Stop scaring me like that! And put something on, your leg-stubble is hideous!"

"But Elizabeta, I'm mourning for poor Gilbert! I can't put my clothes back on until I stop mourning! And I can't believe you're denouncing my beautiful sleek legs!"

"I don't care! Your legs are horrendously ugly next to Roderich's or Gilbert's! Wait, what happened to Gilbert?"

...

"This is awesome," Prussia said softly. "I get a nice view from the window. Kesesesese!" He turned around to face the room. Instantly Norway jumped into action.

"Keep your hands off my brother," he growled, standing protectively in front of Iceland.

"Norway, what are you doing?" Iceland wailed. "Why did you steal my licorice? And where's Mr. Puffin?"

"Don't let your guard down even for a second, Emil. Goodness knows what unspeakable horrors he will do to you."

"What's wrong with you? Why are you acting this way? Oh God, I'm so embarrassed!" Iceland buried his face in his hands.

Norway sighed. "Emil, I'm just looking out for you…"

"I don't want you to! Prussia's not going to molest me or something so go away! Don't you have your own creepy roommate to deal with?"

...

"Huh," said Greece. "I… guess… he's not here… yet." He dropped his suitcases and went to sleep.

* * *

Ecuador and Chile sat next to each other, arms crossed, their jaws set in somber grey expressions. For several minutes neither of them moved. Finally, Chile spoke. "Do you suppose he's calmed down now?"

A wail came from the adjacent room, followed by the clink of breaking glass. Ecuador sighed.

"Nope."

"Hey Pablo, can I stay over tonight?"

"Are you kidding me? Germany will have our balls for breakfast if he finds out! Well, he'll have mine. Yours will be shoved down your own throat when Miguel catches you here."

Right on cue, the Venezuelan popped in. "Oi, what is Yamai doing in here?" he demanded. "Go back to your own room."

"He can't," said Ecuador. "Huayna will rip his remaining man-parts off after you're through with him."

"Shush!" Chile hissed. "Do you hear that?"

Ecuador and Venezuela strained their ears, only to hear silence.

"That's my point exactly! What happened to the yelling? Maybe he finally cried himself to sleep." He tiptoed to the next room and poked his head in. He was immediately assaulted by an angry Peruvian wielding a pillow.

"How dare you show your face here, jackass! I don't care if you have to sleep on the floor outside, you're not sharing a room with me! Get out!"

Chile sighed.

* * *

After a lot of shouting and fist-waving, Austria finally got a bunch of nations to carry the piano upstairs for him. "But Austria," England protested, "what about your roommate? Won't they find it annoying?"

"If they know what's good for them," the Austrian replied curtly, "they would shut up and be grateful for the wonderful music they are receiving."

Unfortunately, America didn't know what was good for him.

"Hey, Austria!" the hyper blond greeted as he burst in like the Kool Aid man. "Oh, yeah! I hope we can get along! Whoa, that piano takes up so much room!"

Austria's eyes narrowed. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Haha, not really! I mean, my PlayStation and other junk still fits along this side, right?" He started carrying in box after box after box of game consoles and monitors.

Austria sighed. "Please turn the volume down when I'm playing the piano…"

"Sure thing!" But Austria knew his words had sailed right over the American's head.

Suddenly, there was a clamor from the room above. Austria groaned. Would he never get any peace? He grabbed a broom and thumped the ceiling. "Hey, keep it down, will you? I'm trying to play the piano here! Honestly, who does that _Arschloch_ think he is?"

...

It wasn't Germany's fault he was being loud. He'd walked into the room and been ambushed by none other than…

"Yo! Like, it's Germany! Hey, man!" Poland waved. "By the way, check out my outfit! Isn't it, like totally awesome?" He did an about-face for the stunned German, showing off his string bikini.

Germany tried to get out but in his hysteria he'd apparently forgotten how to open a door. "_Gott, _let me out, let me out!" he cried, desperately fumbling with the doorknob while the Pole approached him. Even rooming with Britain would've been better…

...

"I can't believe this."

"Me neither."

The two nations glared at each other across the bed.

Finally, England sighed and turned around. "Whatever. I'm going to draw a line down the middle of the room. You stay on your side and I'll stay on mine. Got it?"

"Hmph," Sealand huffed. "Why couldn't I have stayed with Latvia instead?"

...

Latvia eyed the strange person in front of him. Said person was clad in nothing but sunglasses and a pair of Batman boxers, revealing nearly all his tan skin. "Um, who are you?" he asked timidly.

The man flashed him a thumbs up. "I'm Madagascar! Come, dance with me! I like to move it, move it~~ I like to move it, move it~~"

For once, Latvia stopped trembling. "O-okay…" He couldn't wait to tell Estonia about his new cool new friend who didn't scare him or squish him or stretch him or make him do all the dirty work.

...

"Oh wow, I'm so lucky," the Baltic nation commented as he flung open the curtains. "Nice view, big room, and on top of that, no roommate!" He grinned.

Canada sighed and began unpacking. Sooner or later the Estonian would trip over him and find out.

...

Italy stared eagerly at his roommate, a brown-skinned man in a kandura and a headdress. "Ve~~~~"

UAE pointed to him. "You're Italy," he said, receiving a nod from the Italian in response. "Who am I?"

"Ve, I think you have that backwards! You should say, 'I'm the United Arab Emirates. Who are you?' because you need to introduce yourself first!"

"Okay. I'm Mohammed Ali, I speak Tamil, and I hate Saudi Arabia. Wait, I think only that last part's right…"

"It's okay! Sometimes Nii-chan gets identity crisis too! Don't worry, I'll help you!"

"I appreciate it."

...

Romano had managed to beat the crowd and locked himself in his room while a flood of nations sloshed through the halls in search of their rooms and roommates. Damn it, how did this happen? He was houseless, forced to share this damn hellhole with 300 other smelly nations, not even given his privacy (at least the world leaders were working hard on building another wing, though he doubted it would be complete anytime soon), and on top of that th-there would be n-n-no A-Antonio in b-bed ton-n-night…

A certain cheese-eating sister complex was going to feel the wrath of the Mafia later.

He kicked the wall in frustration. If he didn't have to _live_ in this godforsaken place he'd have pissed on it already! Instead he just collapsed onto his bed with a sigh. It was the end of the world. He would never get through this…

He spotted the doorknob twist and guessed that it must be his roommate, unlocking the door with his/her/its key.

Bah.

His eyes went as wide as dinner plates when he saw who was on the other end.

Mexico jumped back as though the doorway had repelled him. "What the FUCK?" he screamed, dropping his luggage as he did a double take. "You? I have to share a room with YOU?"

Romano was just as surprised. "_CAZZOOOOOOOO!_" he yelled, slamming his fist into the mattress. Shit, shit, shit, _shit!_ This was awful! So goddamn awful! A certain cheese-eating sister complex must've been smoking _crack_ when he paired them up! Damn it, what had he done to deserve this? He was a pious man (sometimes). He went to church every Sunday (only because Vatican City made him). He was nice to women! So, why? _Why?_

Mexico started crying. "_Papá_… help me…"

Romano felt a twinge of irritation when the Hispanic mentioned Spain. How dare that brat use Antonio's name in vain. He wanted to go over there and punch Mexico in the face, but damn it, he was too tired right now. Besides, there was plenty of time to do that later.

"_Dio_," he muttered, playing his hands together in prayer, "have mercy on me. I don't know what I did to anger You, but whatever it was, I'm really sorry. So, please, stop torturing me…"

When he opened his eyes again the damn brat was still there.

* * *

**UAE (Abdul El Jamail): 27 years old. Still can't remember who he is, unfortunately. Someone ought to shoo those immigrants out.**

**Albania: 25-year-old man with France-like stubble and messy hair he ties into a ponytail. Kind of mean-looking at first but once you get to know him he's really quite a nice guy.**

**Croatia (Nikola Sablić): 20 years old, with large innocent eyes and a face so bishie it makes Hungary fangasm. **

**Herzegovina (Senka Kovaevic, but everyone calls her Herzé): 19-year-old girl with long brown hair. Her twin brother is Bosnia (Petar Kovacevic; close friends call him Boz).**

**Venezuela (Miguel Vespucci): 26 years old, probably has feelings for Ecuador but no one needs to know that, right? OAO  
**

**According to Hetalia Archives, one of Iceland's potential names is Emil.**

**Madagascar: XD**

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**R&R~**


	3. Do you want fries with that randomness?

**Well, I still haven't found any concrete Portugal info yet. And you know what that means... it's time for her to kick Spain's ass! (whee~~) Not in this chapter. Soon, though. **

**Lots of Su-san action in this chapter. Belarus hasn't found Spain yet, but when she does you can bet it'll be every bit as ugly as the Swedish-Belarusian war is turning out to be.  
**

* * *

Lunchtime.

"Ve~~~~, pastaaaaa!" Italy chirped as he skipped down the hall to the kitchen. There were several scattered throughout the house, great huge restaurant-style ones with separate cooking stations and whatnot, and after a very heated debate (during which Germany was picked up by some exasperated African nations and thrown out of the discussion), it was decided that the countries would be divided according to continent and assigned to a particular kitchen. Immediately after the negotiations were complete, Italy dashed off, hoping to find a good spot before the other hungry nations flooded the place. He found Romano standing there alone, munching on a panino he'd made for himself. "Ve, Nii-chan, is there any pasta?" he said, opening the cupboards. Shelves of bread and flour and rice greeted him. But no pasta.

"Dumbass, if there was I'd have cooked it already," Romano grumbled, licking bread crumbs off his fingers. "They haven't sent tomatoes here yet either, those bastards. Meh. At least the ham is good."

"Ve…" Italy's face fell.

"I really don't feel like cooking anyways. Let's go see what Spain's making. Maybe we can scrounge something from him."

Spain, unfortunately, had decided to fix lunch for his twenty-odd Hispanophone children, and was frantically chopping vegetables while some of his older kids were shelling shrimp. "This will be the most epic paella ever!" the Spaniard declared as Italy and Romano stared in disbelief. "It'll be so epic, we can use it to take over the world! Bwahahahaha!"

Romano started freaking out. "Holy shit!" he cried. "Russia's brainwashed you! Oh hell, it's the end of the universe!"

* * *

A young businessman-type in a neatly-pressed suit stood in the walk-in freezer, shivering as he scanned row after row of ingredients. "_Siao!_" Singapore grumbled, in an accent as thick as his coke-bottle glasses. "That damn Cheena, making me get his ingredients for him! And Japan too. Stupid _bodohs_, the whole lot of them." He spotted what he was looking for and hauled it off the shelf. He reached for the door, only to find that it was closed, and there was no handle on this side. "Shit!" he swore. "It's just like in the movies! Why this happen to me?

"I'm a tropical nation wat!"

* * *

"And so," Germany mumbled to himself as he cut up some wurst, "I fell victim to my own strict rules." He sighed. "Good lord, my eyes…" He would forever be scarred by the sight of Poland in that bikini. Oh well, maybe imagining Feliciano in the same outfit might soothe his mind a little. He looked up as Switzerland entered the room. "I told you to organize them by continent, Vash," he chided. "We have Egypt rooming with New Zealand and China with Denmark…"

"I told you I was going to match them up randomly," the Swiss huffed, "but I assure you, it wasn't my fault. Italy had them all categorized already and I just paired them up within each group." He retrieved the paper from his pocket.

Germany read the list:

"Europe: England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales, Greenland? Russia (that one's debatable)… blah blah blah… Finland, Bulgaria, Greece, Monaco… What the heck? Belize? Madagascar? Canada? (Whoa someone remembered him.) Hungary… Netherlands… Paraguay? ANTARCTICA? Oh, Feliciano…" He rubbed his temples to ward off his impending headache.

"I told you so." Switzerland poured himself a glass of water.

"_Gott_…" Germany shook his head. "No wonder everything's a huge mess." He looked at Switzerland. "And you? What were _you_ doing? Why didn't you correct any of it?" Switzerland pointedly looked away. Then Germany noticed something was amiss. "Hey Vash, where's your gun?"

Switzerland patted his chest. The holster strap that went across it was gone. "Huh. I don't recall…"

Germany facepalmed. "Great. Now we have a crazy axe murderer on the loose too."

"I think you mean gun murderer."

...

England trudged reluctantly through the undergrowth, following the pale braid in front of him as it weaved its way in and out of the trees. "Sis, I think we should head back," he said timidly, glancing around warily.

"Nonsense, Arthur!" Wales ducked under a low-hanging branch. England failed to notice it and got hit in the face. "Why conform to plain ol' bread and butter when you can experience the thrill of the hunt?"

England sighed. "We're heading deeper and deeper into the woods and I have no idea how we're going to get back," he said. "There's probably nothing in here worth hunting anyway."

Just then, a rabbit darted out of a blackberry bush and scrambled out of their way.

Wales looked back, smirking. "You were saying?"

"W-well, it's only a puny little—whoa, what? Sis, where did you get the gun?" He gasped as his sister held up a long, skinny object wrapped in cloth.

"It's a secret, Arthur~~"

"Bloody hell… God, save me, I'm scared…"

Wales unwrapped the cloth and took aim. A loud bang echoed through the woods. There was an explosion of feathers and flapping as several birds took flight. "Damn, I missed!"

"Uh… I-isn't th-th-that an u-umbrel-lla?" England pointed a shaky finger at the object.

Wales looked down. "Oh! You're right! It _is!_ Huh, I must've grabbed the wrong thing then!" She giggled. England clapped a hand over her mouth. "Wha—? Arthur—"

"Shh!" he hissed. "If all you have is an umbrella… then…" He gulped.

"Who fired that shot?"

* * *

"Hm, you know what we should have?" Thailand mused as he rummaged through the drawers.

"Hmm?" said Myanmar.

"Fried rice."

"But the Spanish what's-his-face person thing is already making paella," said Malaysia.

"Idiot, paella isn't fried rice! Hm! That stuff is just cooked in broth! No, I mean actual _fried_ rice. And besides, what does it matter what other nations are making for lunch?" He adjusted his glasses. "So? What do you say? Shall we?"

"Um, where's Victor?" Malaysia piped up.

"I think Yao and Kiku made him run some errands," said Myanmar. "Something about pork and chicken." She blinked. "Hey, you don't suppose…"

Silence.

Thailand and Malaysia looked at each other. "You'd have to get meat from the freezer…" said Malaysia thoughtfully. His eyes widened. "Oh! The freezer…!"

"Ana~!" cried Thailand. "We'd better go check on him!"

* * *

Finland was wandering through the halls when he was suddenly seized and pulled into a closet. "Ohyaaaaaaa! Rape! Rape!" he screamed, flailing his arms about, until a large hand clamped itself over his mouth and a voice said, "Hush!" His eyes widened. "S-Su-san?"

Sweden brought his finger to his lips as he glanced out warily. "That b'tch's try'ng t' kill me," he whispered. "I placed a d'coy in m' bed b't she'll fig're it out s'n."

_Belarus opened the door a tiny crack and peered inside. Her eyes glinted evilly at the sight of the lump underneath the covers. Stealthily, she slipped into the room, brandishing her knife. "I told you I'd get you for this!" she cackled as she stabbed the blade right in the middle of the lump. She frowned. Something wasn't right. She pulled the blanket back._

_A blue body pillow lay on the mattress. The ugly face scribbled on it leered at her. _

"_CURSESSSSSS!"_

"S-S-Su-san… You poor thing…" Finland patted his shoulder. "Come have some cheesecake with me."

"Th'nks, but I can't. I g'tta stay in hid'ng f'r a bit. List'n, y' gotta tell Spain t' be caref'l, ok'y? She'll be aft'r 'im too."

Finland nodded. "All right. I'll go do that right now." He turned to leave but Sweden grabbed him and pulled him back. "Eh? Su-san—"

Several minutes later, when Norway, wondering why Finland still hadn't made it to the dining table, searched for him, he found the two making out in the closet. He stared. Sweden and Finland stopped kissing and stared back. A full minute passed. Norway closed the closet door quietly and staggered off. After a few paces the shock finally got to him and he sank to his knees, shuddering.

"N-Norway? Are you okay?" said Haiti, who was passing by.

"I think I just developed closet-phobia," the Norwegian muttered.

* * *

"I have not been brainwashed!" said Spain reassuringly. "It's just that the paella really _is_ epic enough for world domination! Right, Juan?"

Mexico grinned. "Yes, _Papá!_"

Romano only freaked out even more. "Oh my god! He got Mexico too! Save me…"

* * *

"Vietnam~~~~~~"

Upon hearing her name, the girl immediately lashed out with her oar. It caught France in the gut just as he was about to jump her. "Leave me alone," she said, slinging the trusty paddle over her shoulder.

"But I miss you!" the Frenchman protested. "I've been busy with work and you've been hanging out with that Thailand of yours all the time! We haven't talked to each other in so long!" He put on a kicked-puppy look.

"Maybe it's better that way," said Vietnam. "Don't delay me, I've got people waiting." With that, she continued on her way, not even sparing him a backward glance.

France sighed. "They've all grown up… I can't even approach them anymore…"

"Molesting little girls again, Francis?"

France turned around. "Estefânia!" he cried. "Hey, long time no see! How are you doing?"

The woman shrugged. "I've got aches and pains all over the place but at least I'm up and about."

"Hahaha! Of course! Man, it's so great to see you back among us! They started a show about us called Hetalia, and the fans are so upset that you haven't shown up in it yet! Say, do you want me to, ah, tell Arthur you're here?"

She ignored his last remark. "Have you seen João?"

"Oh, him! I think he was hanging out with Antonio's kids. They've probably gone outside to eat, since it so sunny. Hey, Estefânia, wanna join me for lunch? I have crepes~~~!"

"No thanks." A dark look flashed in her eyes. "João, that damn ingrate… Lino, Paulo, let's go find your brother." She strode off, her coat flapping dramatically behind her. Two small boys raced after her, flanking her on both sides.

France shuddered. Somewhere a certain South American Lusophone was about to die…

* * *

"I like noodles~~" sang China as he pulled and folded the dough repeatedly (hand-pulled noodles are the best, yum! I highly suggest you try them if you ever get the chance.) "Huh. Singapore was supposed to be back with the pork by now. I wonder where he is?"

* * *

"Boz! Boz! Wait up!"

Bosnia turned. Croatia was standing there with a frying pan, smiling manically. Immediately, he raised his hands in front of him in defense. Croatia laughed. "Don't be so paranoid, Boz, I'm just returning this to Elizabeta. See? I didn't even raise it or anything."

"Bah. Don't scare me like that." Bosnia crossed his arms. "Where's Senka?"

"Herzé? She's right," he turned around, "behind… me…" His jaw dropped. The corridor was empty. "What the heck? How does she just disappear like that?"

"It's magic~~!" said Herzegovina as she suddenly popped up behind him. "Well, not really. I saw Sweden crawling into the ventilation system and thought, why not give it a try? It was so fun! We can spy on people like that!" She grinned.

Bosnia sighed. "Oh no… Senka, please, no…"

"Wait, _Sweden_ is in there?" said Croatia. "Isn't he kind of… too big to fit?"

"Well, it's only the narrower pipes he can't get through," said Herzegovina. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

"I'm n't fine at 'll," Sweden mumbled, fidgeting uncomfortably. His arms were pinned to his sides, with his elbows bent and hands underneath his shoulders. Behind him, the pipe had constricted his leg room vastly, leaving only enough space to fling his foot up about three inches. His clothes were chafing horrifically and his belt buckle was digging painfully into his skin. "Well, this is gr't…

"I'm stuck."

There was a grille about a foot in front of him. With great effort, he wriggled over like a worm and peered down. A fan had been installed there. Through the gaps between the blades, he saw a white porcelain bowl. He was above someone's bathroom.

There was hope after all! He sucked in a breath to call for help, just as someone came inside. Suddenly his breath hitched in his throat. He quickly exhaled and managed to keep his voice from spilling out. _That was close,_ he thought to himself.

It was Belarus down there.

Just his luck! Sweden prayed she would go away soon, but somewhere in his bowels he knew she wouldn't. The fact that she was here probably meant he'd somehow crawled into the air duct right above his own room. And that meant he risked facing her even late at night, when he could otherwise have been free to make a giant ruckus as he slowly worked his way free. He was screwed with a capital S-C-R-E-W-E-D.

But wait, what was that?

Sweden noticed that Belarus had brought a towel and a change of clothes with her. Uh-oh. That couldn't turn out well…

His eyes widened when the woman began taking her clothes off.

* * *

**Fear not, they're never becoming a couple. Eww, that would make me projectile-vomit right over my laptop into my mom's lap.**

**

* * *

**

**Introducing Wales, a character design thought up by Artemis Queen of the Stars! Overview:**

Name:Enid Gwalchmai

Age: well, looks 30

Bio: England's older sister. When they were younger, they lived together quite happily. Then Roman Empire invaded and took a prefrence to her brother and so used to bully the little girl. As a result, England thinks he can bully her too and is quite controlling of her and likes to say what she can and can't do. Used to wander around barefoot in warpaint and weilding spear when she was younger (harking back to Celtic warriors), she now wears hiking boots, jeans and a cagule and is often seen carrying a lamb). Very friendly, sometimes lapses into her old language (eg: "Arthur, you been fighting Alfie again? You need a cwitch" (welsh for hug)). Also rather close to Argentina who also has a tendancy to lapse into Welsh. Even though her and Arthur argue a lot, they get on with one thing: RUGBY. Often play it together.

Looks: Very well built with long bushy blonde hair which she wears in a french plait, big green eyes. Rather muscular arms and chesty (I'm not playing to a stereotype at all lol)

**Many thanks for the suggestion! Now for some suckier other OC bios:**

**Singapore (Victor Tan): Described in the chapter itself. He speaks Singlish and is always annoyed at people. Hangs out with Thailand, Malaysia, India and Myanmar. Indonesia keeps calling him _Temasek_ (his old name, before Raffles took over). A basic translation of what he says in this chapter is: "Geez! That damn Chinaman, making me get his ingredients for him! And Japan too. Stupid idiots, the whole lot of them... I'm a tropical nation, it's not my fault!" Yeah, I love him lots. I used to live in his vital regions. It was hot and steamy, but please let's not go there...OAO**

**Haiti: Only a passer-by nation mentioned so far. **

**Myanmur: Female, ~23 years old? Keeps a lovely color-point cat with white paws. **

**Malaysia: Haven't decided much on him yet but maybe he and Singapore are gay together. Yeah, that definitely sounds appealing. Not really...**

**(Estefania): Who knows. Yet. ;)**

**São Tomé and Príncipe (Lino and Paulo): A hint as to who the mysterious Estefania might be. Hmm...**

**(Jo****ão): Someone who is in deep shit. Seriously. And, as a side note, a Lusophone is a Portuguese-speaker. Suddenly all the mystery disappears, doesn't it. **

**Bosnia (Petar Kovacevic): Kind of cold and cynical. Has OCD-like tendencies.**

**

* * *

R&R~  
**


	4. Lunchtime Antics

**As usual, I'm writing chapters when I should be doing homework instead. But I'm tired... I just made an epic animation for my Powerpoint presentation and I kinda don't want to continue anymore. Oh well, I guess I'll pull an all-nighter the day before school starts...**

**There was something else I had wanted to say but I forgot what it was. See, this just goes to show how tired I am.**

* * *

Canada spread two slices of bread on the plate. Then, grabbing a bottle of maple syrup, he poured it all over one of the slices. America watched with growing horror as the golden liquid soaked into the bread. "Um, Mattie, are you feeling okay?" he said. He knew _he_ sure wasn't, not after seeing this… this god-awful abomination of a lunch. If it could even be called that.

"Of course I'm fine," Canada replied, putting the bread together and taking a bite of his sandwich. "Hmm. I think it needs some honey… or jam…"

Great. A quasi-invisible nation high on sugar. Somehow America had a feeling the other countries would be screaming poltergeist soon.

"By the way," said Canada, "where are your glasses?"

America touched a hand to his face. They were gone. "Holy [BLEEP] on a [BLEEP] sandwich!" he cried. "That bastard Mexico must've stolen them again!" Canada looked slightly annoyed at having his lunch insulted, but was ignored, as usual. "I gotta go! Catch you later, Mattie!" He rushed off in search of his missing Texas.

Canada sighed. "And so, here I am, all alone again… Like hell Alfred's gonna come back…"

Beside him, Bahrain was making himself a Nutella sandwich. "That's okay," he said, patting the Canadian's shoulder. "Karma'll get him."

Canada blinked. "Who are you?"

* * *

"Today," Romano muttered, "I have to eat paella with a bunch of crazy Latin Americans." As though to prove his point, Mexico chose this moment to hurl his spoon at El Salvador. It bounced off the latter's head and hit Bolivia. "God, why do You hate me? I've asked you this so many times already, and every time I do, it's usually because of Spain; it _must_ be because I'm with him."

"Aww, Lovi, I'm hurt," Spain said with a pout. "I thought you liked being with me!" He tried to hug Romano but was pushed away. "Lovi…"

Romano suddenly found himself dribbling rice from his ear when El Salvador lobbed a spoonful of it at Mexico and missed. "Damn it!" he snarled, rounding on the Central American nation, who quickly bowed in apology and retreated. A moment later Mexico returned fire and hit Romano's other ear.

"Juan, don't waste food," Cuba chided, snatching the boy's spoon out of his hand.

"No fair! He started it!"

"Then you end it, or else I'll tell Maya what you did to her marigolds."

Mexico's eyes widened. "You wouldn't!"

"Oh, I'm sure he would," Paraguay interjected, smirking. "She was crying about it for weeks, wasn't she? And you didn't even apologize. Tsk, tsk."

"To be precise," Uruguay added, "you were too weak to apologize." His cell phone rang. "Hello? This is Uruguay, without a P, as in Cairo… one moment." He handed the phone to Paraguay.

"Yes, this is Paraguay, with a P, as in Philippines…"

"Ve," said Italy, "somehow the way they talk seems familiar."

"Well, of course it does," said Uruguay. "It's not like we've never met before."

"To be precise: it's like we've met before," said Paraguay, before turning back to his phone conversation: "Hello? It's still Paraguay. Yeah, with the P, like in 'pneumatic' and 'photosynthesis'…"

Spain giggled as Mexico tried to hide behind him. "Hooray, this feels just like a family reunion!" He was promptly bowled over by an enraged Romano trying to get at the Hispanic cowering behind his back.

"Not really," Chile muttered, glaring in the direction of the only non-family member…

Brazil flashed him the middle finger and continued sulking in the corner. Hell, it wasn't like he _wanted_ to be here. It was just that he… he… was hanging around out of habit! Yeah, that must be it! He was so used to being surrounded by those damn Spanish-speakers that he had come here without even realizing it! S-so there!

He yelled angrily when a strong hand seized the back of his collar. The indignation quickly turned into fear, however, when he heard a voice hiss, "And just what are you doing here, João?"

* * *

England and Wales clutched each other tightly as a figure slowly approached. "Sis, if I don't make it," said England, "I just want you to know: I left my will in the safe upstairs. The combination is—"

"Yo, Arthur!" Prussia popped his head out of the brush. "Fancy meeting you here! What are you doing, making out? With your sister?" He cackled. "Just wait 'til Francis hears about this! Kesesesesesese!"

"Sh-shut up!" England cried, letting go of Wales. "We most certainly are _not_ doing anything of the sort!" He blinked. "Wait, why are you here?"

"Me? Oh, you know, I'm just stalking Roddy, as usual…"

England and Wales exchanged glances. "Then, if you're stalking Austria, and you're here…" England began.

"That must mean… oh!" Wales gasped. "The one who shot at us was—!"

* * *

Sweden breathed a sigh of relief as Belarus finally left the bathroom. Thank goodness that bitch hadn't looked up. If she had, she might've seen the red spatters on the fan blades and realized someone was there. He tried to wipe his nose and realized his hands were still stuck. "Damn," he mumbled, sniffling instead. At least it hadn't been Fin down there, or he might've died from amnesia. Then again, maybe not—the blood would've gone elsewhere instead of his nose…

"Sweden?"

He looked up. Lying across from the grille, in pretty much the same position as he was in, was Seborga.

"Oh my gosh! It _is_ you!" The Italian brother beamed. "Hey, maybe you could help me out? I came up here to escape from Wy, but it seems like I'm stuck…" To prove his point, he wriggled around a little. "Ah, p-perhaps you could un-stick me?"

Oh. _Oh._

This was interesting.

Sweden had a feeling they were going to be there for a long time…

* * *

"Lonely… I'm Mister Lonely… I have nobody… for my own…" France sang softly to himself. He stirred his coffee half-heartedly. Antonio was off frolicking with his kids, Gilbert was busy stalking Roderich, Arthur had been dragged off by that pretty sister of his… Estefânia had probably jilted him for Arthur or gone to beat the crap out of her son, and Seychelles and Monaco were hanging out together and ignoring him again. Even Niger had hopped on board the Let's-Be-Mean-to-France train and shot him an ugly look upon passing him in the hall earlier. He sighed. How he wished for someone to talk to…

"Like, it's France! Hey, man!" Poland sat down beside him. "Do you like my new outfit? It's totally awesome, isn't it?"

France felt a bit of his France-ness returning as he eyed the Pole's bikini. "Oh yes," he said, smiling to himself, "it's terrific… ohonhonhon…"

Someone up there must really like him.

* * *

"Someone up there must really hate me," Indonesia said to herself as she peered warily into the freezer. "Darn it, why couldn't Brunei have done this instead?" Then again, Brunei hated the cold just as much as she did. She spotted what she was looking for, darted inside, grabbed it and was about to leave when—

"O-o-o-oi-i…"

Indonesia nearly screamed when a big frosty grey thing suddenly jumped before her. "It's a yeti!" she cried, backing up in panic. Then she noticed that it was a guy in a suit. "T-Temasek?"

Singapore was shivering so violently he didn't even have to nod in acknowledgement; his head was bobbing up and down enough on its own. "I-I-I-I-I g-g-got-t-t s-s-s-stuck-k," he stuttered, folding his arms. "H-h-help me…"

Indonesia blinked. Then she shook her head with a sigh. "Temasek, you idiot," she said, escorting him to the door. Singapore's eyes widened as it swung open easily with a swift kick from the Indonesian.

"The door opens outwards, dummy!"

* * *

Brazil gulped. He was in big trouble now. "_M-M-Mãe_," he squeaked, forcing a smile as he slowly turned around to face the stern-faced woman behind him. "H-h-how've you b-been?"

Portugal scowled. "Answer my question, fool," she growled, yanking him backwards by his shirt. "What are you doing mingling with these Spanish jerks?"

"Oh, he's really getting it now," Paraguay whispered.

Uruguay nodded. "To be precise: he's really ghetto."

Brazil put on the best kicked-puppy look he could muster and looked piteously at his mother. "M-Mama…" Portugal's eyes narrowed.

"Oho! He's sucking up to her!" Uruguay crowed.

"To be precise: he sucks!" Paraguay added.

Whatever Brazil was doing, it seemed to work; a minute later Portugal let go of him and stormed up to Spain. The Spaniard, still trapped between Romano and Mexico, smiled innocently at her. "_Hermana~_"

His statement ended in a strangled gasp as Portugal drove her boot into his crotch.

"You," she snarled, grinding her heel into his vital regions, "what do you think you're doing, making João wallow amongst your filthy brood?"

"B-but," Spain protested, "he came here of his own acco—AAAAAAAHHHHHH! M-mercy! I haven't even h-had children with Lovi yet…"

Portugal gave him a long hard glare. Then she huffed. "Whatever." She whirled around and seized Brazil. "Antonio, if I find that he's forgotten even a single word of Portuguese…" she drew her finger across her throat. Spain shuddered. "Let's go, you ungrateful brat," she said, dragging Brazil off by the ear.

"Ve, Spain-niichan, are you okay?" said Italy, looking worriedly at the crumpled heap of man that was supposed to be Spain.

"Of course he's not okay," said Paraguay.

"To be precise—" Uruguay started.

"Shut up!" Chile snapped.

"_You_ shut up! I'm Master Uruguay! Bow before my awesome staff-wielding shell-toting might—"

Chile slapped him.

* * *

Austria swore as his foot landed in something gross and squishy. Eww, now his shoe would never be clean again. Where was he? He had absolutely no idea. All he knew was that his beautiful plan was on the verge of being ruined and he was on the verge of losing his sanity.

This was all America's fault, he decided.

Yes, it was all America's fault Austria was standing there in mud and dead bugs and goodness knew what else, cursing and shivering in the cold, with a gun slung over his shoulder and America's glasses in his hand. How had it happened? He tried to recall…

He'd been practicing a nocturne when America had started playing Minesweeper. Now, that wouldn't have been so bad by itself, but the damn Yankee kept making sound effects to go with the game. Several minutes of infernal ticking and bomb imitation noises later, Austria had finally snapped. Noticing the glasses on the desk beside him, he'd snatched them and tucked them into his pocket. Then he'd 'borrowed' Switzerland's rifle and set off in search of Mexico. He would wait until America came looking for his glasses, he'd decided, and fire a round of ammunition into that rambunctious troublemaker's head. And if Mexico got caught in the crossfire—well, that one was pretty annoying too, actually. Then he would sneakily return the gun and make it look like it was Switzerland who'd pulled the trigger on them. Two birds with one stone! At least, that had been the plan. And a most brilliant plan it had been.

Things were looking rather un-brilliant now. Partly because he was lost in the woods and the sky was turning cloudy.

Somewhere a twig snapped. Austria froze. What was that? A bear? A wolf? A rabid fangirl? He whirled around, gun held out in front of him, squinting into the darkness. "Wh-who's there?" he demanded.

"Don't shoot!" a familiar voice cried. Austria lowered the gun. That sounded like…

"England?" the Austrian said in disbelief as said nation stumbled into view, hands held over his head in surrender. "What are you doing here?"

"We got lost! Why were you firing at us?" England demanded as he gave the all-clear to Wales and Prussia. Austria almost pulled the trigger at the sight of the albino, but managed to restrain himself.

"I didn't. I haven't fired a single shot since I got this gun," he said, lowering the weapon. "By the way, do you have any idea how to get out of here?"

England blinked. "You what?"

"A. Way. Out," Austria enunciated.

"No, no, I mean…" England suddenly looked around frantically. "You didn't try to shoot us?"

Austria shook his head. "Why would I?"

"Oh dear," said Wales. "Then, if I didn't fire that shot, and Prussia didn't, and _you_ didn't…"

Right on cue, another shot rang out.

England nodded. "Gentlemen, we have a conundrum…" Wales nudged him. "Oh. Gentlemen and lady. Sorry."

* * *

Thailand had gotten a good laugh out of Singapore's little incident in the freezer. "Ana~, Victor, you're so funny," he guffawed, slapping his friend's back heartily. When he drew his hand away bits of ice were clinging to it. "Look, you got freezer burn! Ahahahahahaha!" Singapore tried his best to glare at him.

So did Malaysia. "Please, we don't laugh at others' misery," he chided, wrapping a blanket around Singapore. "Victor, do you want to have a bath? That might warm you up faster."

"S-su-sure," the Singaporean stammered.

"Wow, it's almost as bad as the time he got trapped in Snow City," Myanmar mused. "I guess Victor really _is_ the tropical type."

"Like a plant~" Thailand added, and was immediately punched in the back by Vietnam as she arrived on the scene.

"What's this? Making fun of people again?" she said. Then she saw Singapore. "Victor! What happened?"

"Apparently," said Myanmar, "he stayed in the freezer for nearly half an hour because he didn't know he could open the door from the inside even without a handle."

"Oh." Vietnam paused. Then she started laughing too. "Again?"

"I know, right?" Thailand giggled.

Myanmar and Malaysia threw them a dirty look. No wonder those two got along so well.

* * *

"You know," said China, as he slurped his noodles, "someone should tell a joke or something aru. Why is it so quiet in here?" He glanced at Japan. Japan looked at Taiwan. Taiwan turned to the Korea brothers. North Korea looked back at China.

"I'll go!" South Korea volunteered. "Let's see… Oh, this one's pretty good. Well, there were these two men—"

"No, no. Stop," said Japan, frantically shaking his head.

China stared for a moment. Then he smiled. "That _was_ pretty good aru."

**

* * *

**

That last one is a true story. Happened in our chemistry class XD

**

* * *

**

Bahrain: ah, as discreet as ever. Even Canada doesn't recognize him.

**El Salvador (Ramón de Alvarado): Meh, I dunno. I guess my impression of him is that he's always grumpy.**

**Maya: Mexico's little-known sister, the descendant of the Maya civilization. Appears to be the same age as him. Goodness knows where she is, but she sure isn't at the paella picnic with the others… **

**Paraguay and Uruguay: cookies to those who can guess correctly the two people Paraguay and Uruguay's speech emulates. Hint: they're characters that France might know quite well. And, while P and U might not resemble each other in the slightest (Uruguay is white while Paraguay is a mestizo), the characters they speak like look practically identical except for their mustaches. **

**As a side note, why does Paraguay deliberately choose words that don't even contain the P sound? Phooey.**

**Brazil (João Santos Silva Fernandez Capibaribe): His first name, by the way, is pronounced something like "John" or "Jean". Plug it into Google Translate and click "Listen". With the squiggly a or else it won't work. About 18? Recently hit a growth spurt due to the improvement in his HDI.**

**Portugal (Estefânia Silva Fernandez): To quote America: "Ahhh! Kowai! Kowai yo! Wohohohoho! (Protect me, Japan!)" Appears a little past her prime due to the stress of raising her children. Her lousy economy keeps her bedridden for weeks at a time. Probably a nymphomaniac—with that many kids, what do you think? Especially protective of her beloved Brazil (none of her other kids would **_**ever**_** get away with that cutesy act he put on) because she's afraid he'll turn Spanish like the rest of his continent. **

**Indonesia: Apparently Himaruya has a character design for her? Or is it a him? It (the design) has long hair but is kinda androgynous.**

**Apparently Chile isn't afraid to slap people. But that could be because Uruguay is annoying. And his name sounds like "turtle" in Chinese. Hence, the Kung Fu Panda reference: Master Oogway/Uruguay… Ugh, that was the worst one I've ever come up with. Sorry. x.x**

**Poor Austria/England/Wales/Prussia.**

**Snow City is a fun place in Singapore where they artificially create snow. I went there once. Experienced frostbite for the first time in my (then) eight-year-old life...**

**Thanks for reading! Until next time!**


	5. Why is France telling physics jokes?

**Paraguay: Hey! This is Paraguay, with the P, as in 'psychology'…**

**Uruguay: And this is Uruguay, without the P, as in Tutankhamen! Just popped by to say, the characters we speak like are Thomson and Thompson from Hergé's comic books **_**Tintin!**_** But we like to think we're a cut above those two bumbling idiots. :)  
**

**Paraguay: To be precise: we think like cut bumbling idiots! **

**Uruguay: Wait, what?**

* * *

**And also, did anyone notice in the last chapter that when Cuba took Mexico's spoon away, the latter **_**had already thrown it at El Salvador?**_** WHOA PLOT HOLE! :D For simplicity's sake, let's just say he kept a spare… Bolivia throwing it back is not an option because then Juanito would have a spoon-shaped hole in his head.**

**Chile: Can he get one anyways for hurting my sister?**

**Cuba: What is this, the Spoon War? If that stupid piece of silverware leaves your hand I'll… I'll… Spain, can I shoot him?**

**Peru: You could always trap him deep in a mine in the Atacama Desert for two months. With 32 other hairy men and their ugly manly B.O. and whatnot.**

**Ecuador: You do realize you'll grow up into a man too, don't you.**

**Spain: [ignoring Cuba] Yamai, **_**you**_** were down there? OAO**

**Chile: [ignoring Spain] Are you **_**still**_** hung up over that? It's not my fault you spent all that time alone at my place! I _warned_ you! I told you to go home! Why were you still there when I got back?  
**

**Peru: Well, that—I—um, that is… guh… I—I mean—! I-I—Curses! I was only… u-um… I-it was too much trouble packing up! A-and there were n-no f-fl-flights to C-Cusco… [blushes]**

**Chile: [raises eyebrow] Right.**

**Mexico: Ahahaha! Huayna wuvs his big bwother!**

**Peru: . . . . . .**

**Aaaaand, looks like Mexico's about to end up with that hole in his head after all. Just to clear things up: no, Chile was not in the mine. He went to help get them out after the collapse. **

**Chile: [tries to hug Peru] It's okay… 'Big bwother' understands.**

**Peru: Shut up! Don't touch me, you damn ****1984**** antagonist!**

**Cookies to those who got that last line. See how IB corrupts my brain? x.x**

* * *

England slowly raised his head out of the bush. All was silent. He gestured to the other three, who crept through the undergrowth to meet him. "All right," he whispered. "I think I've figured out how to get out of here. Unfortunately, the gunshots seem to be coming from the same direction we're supposed to be heading in. Here's what we'll do. Sis, we'll use your umbrella as a shield. Austria will be beside you so he can use the gun if he needs to. Prussia, you cover the rear and let us know if you see anything suspicious. Got it?" The others nodded. "Good. Let's go!"

They hadn't gone more than three feet when the gunshot sounded again, this time a lot closer than before. "C-courage," England stammered as Prussia flinched. "Just think, a few moments of suspense and then we'll be out of the woods… literally and figuratively."

Another gunshot sounded—from the _other_ direction.

The group froze. "Well," said Austria, "this is an interesting development…"

* * *

Príncipe peered into the broom closet. There was all sorts of weird stuff in here, from cleaning supplies to stuffed owls with half the feathers fallen out. He and São Tomé had found this place when Portugal turned them loose in the corridor while she went off to fetch Brazil. It was never a good sign when she left them behind. That usually meant some sort of obscene violence was about to occur. But they didn't mind; it would be fun watching their brother stumbling back with various scrapes and bruises all over the place.

It was no wonder Brazil disliked them; according to him, the twins were just as sadistic as that Inca brat he lived beside. Príncipe wished he lived closer to South America, so he and Lino and that Inca kid could hang out together and torment Brazil to no end.

He gasped as he spotted something glinting in the dim light. Eyes sparkling with glee, he pointed it out to his twin.

"Lino, _olhar_!"

São Tomé's mouth fell open when he saw what Príncipe was pointing at. The two exchanged looks. Slowly, in an eerily synchronized fashion, they smiled.

Torture time.

* * *

"This is ridiculous," England grumbled as he, Wales, Austria and Prussia trudged out of the forest. In each hand the Brit held an ear—their respective owners were stumbling after him, wincing. "Whose damn kids are these anyway?"

"Lemme go!" North Sudan cried, lashing out at England.

"Yeah! It's none of your business!" South Sudan added. England sighed and tugged on their ears, reducing their yells to pained squealing.

"At least we caught them before anyone got hurt," said Wales optimistically. "I mean, two kids shooting at each other in the woods is pretty dangerous."

"Hmm," said Prussia, an evil glint flashing in his eye, "a few minutes with the awesome me will fix their attitudes… Kesesesesese…"

The Sudanese brothers immediately shut up.

"See?"

"We'll let Germany take care of them, I guess," said England. "He _is_ in charge, after all."

"Wait, didn't you also want to be in charge?" Wales pointed out.

England stopped. "Um… well…"

North Sudan took this opportunity to kick him in the shin. South Sudan punched him in the gut.

"If this is what I have to deal with… not anymore…"

...

"Oh, I'll take care of them, all right," said Germany darkly. He cracked his knuckles. North and South Sudan cowered behind England as he approached. "It's Room 101 for you two."

"What the heck!" Switzerland shrieked. "That's _my_ room! And stop making random 1984 references!"

England and Germany exchanged looks. "What's with him?" England whispered as they left him to eat his lunch in peace.

Germany shrugged. "Gun withdrawal symptoms, I suppose."

"Either that," said Prussia, "or he's PMSing."

* * *

The chaos in the house only increased when night fell. Wy, suddenly realizing she hadn't seen Seborga in hours, began looking for him. She joined forces with Finland, who'd been aware of Sweden's AWOL-ness for quite some time now. After a long bout of lecturing and spanking, North and South Sudan finally agreed to stop fighting—for the time being. The guns were confiscated and turned over to Switzerland, who locked his own beloved rifle in its case after getting it back from Austria.

Canada and Bahrain were brushing their teeth at double-speed after guzzling a bunch of maple syrup/Nutella sandwiches for dinner too. America decided to pull an all-nighter playing video games. Unfortunately for Austria, who was trying to sleep.

"America, can you please stop imitating laser shooting noises and put on some headphones. Please!" the incensed Austrian snapped as he folded his pillow over his head in an attempt to block the noise. It didn't work; that annoying digital music was still worming its way into his head. And now it was _stuck_ in there, damn it…

"Sure thing, Austria!" said America as his fingers fluttered over the keys. "Just as soon as I complete this level—YEAH! Wow, that was epic! Ooh, I unlocked a secret level!" And he continued playing without even looking away from the screen.

Austria sighed.

"Hey," he said, knocking on Germany's door. "This system of yours is ridiculous." There was no response. "Ludwig?"

The door opened. A weary face poked out. "Roderich? What are you doing here?" Germany rubbed his eyes. "_Gott_, that Poland… you saw him, right?"

"The flat-chested one in negligee?" Austria recalled the blond prancing around in a skimpy black babydoll. "Yes, I believe I did." From downstairs came the sound of America whooping. "Ludwig, I demand you move me to another room! That damn America won't stop playing his stupid video games and it's driving me up the wall!"

Germany raised an eyebrow. "You don't say. So that's why you came upstairs to see me." **(A/N: Ahahahaha… "up the wall"… upstairs… okay I'm gonna shut up now.)** Germany sighed. "Fine, since it's come down to this, I'll trade with you for now. I'm used to Italy's antics anyway so it shouldn't bother me as much."

Austria winced at the thought of having to put up with Poland's cross-dressing, but at least he would finally have some peace and quiet. "It's a deal," he said.

"Why are you sleeping so early anyways?" said Germany, glancing at the clock. "It's only 9:30."

Austria bristled. "W-well, excuse me! A man needs his sleep in order to stay handsome, you know!"

Meanwhile, some of the nations who were still staying up had gathered in the lounge and were busy telling each other scary stories.

"…And then," said Prussia, "lightning flashed, and he saw this huge crowd of white things surrounding him. 'Oh no!' he thought. 'There are ghosts in this building! That's not awesome at all! I've got to get out of here!' So he started to run, but he bumped into one of them, and he fell backwards. And the ghost turned to him and said, 'Baa!'"

Silence fell. Someone coughed. Finally, England said, "Um, thank you, Prussia. Anyone else wanna tell one?"

"I know a few lame physics jokes, if anyone wants to hear," France offered. Everyone groaned, but he told them anyway. "What's a nuclear physicist's favorite lunch? Fission chips!"

Switzerland facepalmed.

"A cop pulled Heisenberg over and asked him if he knew how fast he was going. Heisenberg said, 'No, but I know where I am.'"

**(A/N: Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle states that you can't know both the position and speed of a particle with certainty—only one of them at a time.)**

"Two atoms walk into each other. 'Oh no, I lost an electron!' says one. 'Are you sure?' says the other. The first replies, 'I'm positive!'"

"Somebody stop him!" cried Seychelles.

"Hey Einstein, does Paris stop by this train?"

**(A/N: I did NOT get this one at all when the guy at the UBC Physics Olympics told it.)**

Italy handed Romano the duct tape. A minute later, with the problem taken care of, the group resumed its story marathon.

"I'll tell one," said Sealand. "Once upon a time, there was a little boy called Peter—I mean Pete! Yes, Pete! Anyway, Pete was always ridiculed by his colleagues, because he was so small, so they didn't consider him to be one of them—"

"Peter, shut up," England snapped.

"I hate you, dumbo Arthur!"

"Shh!" Iceland hissed. "Did you hear that?"

Everyone froze.

"Hear what?" said Norway.

"The noise!" said Iceland, and this time a few others heard it.

"Sounds like it's coming from outside," Hungary commented. "Let's go see what it is!"

England blanched. After today's incident in the woods he really wasn't up to another adventure.

They crept out into the courtyard, glancing around warily. Suddenly there was a loud rustle. "Wh-who's there?" England demanded, whirling in the direction of the noise.

The bushes shook as a tall figure suddenly burst out from it. Seychelles screamed and grabbed the nearest person she could find, who unfortunately turned out to be France. The figure froze for a moment, then quickly ran off.

Cuba blinked. "That person seemed familiar somehow…"

That was when a splot of paint came out of nowhere and hit Switzerland between the legs.

"Oh my," said Paraguay. "There's wet stuff dripping down your thighs. Is it that time of month?"

"Ahahaha!" Prussia crowed. "I _told_ you he was PMSing! Hahahaha—"

His mouth was still open when another paint-grenade smashed into his face.

"Who's doing that?" said Iceland, squinting into the darkness, as Prussia coughed and sputtered. He gasped and pointed at a lamp a short distance from them. "There!"

Two children stepped into the light, each wielding an evil grin and a shiny black weapon.

"Paintball guns," Romano muttered. "Oh hell."

* * *

**Apologies to dogsrule and Yuri n' Chuka for the reference to paintball… and the duct tape, I guess. It was funny so I decided to use the idea. **

**North and South Sudan: They hate each other's guts, mostly because they're forced to stay together as one country. South is a black African (well, I'm **_**sorry**_** but that's the term my geography teacher used) while North is Arabic. Their lifestyles conflict and their people are mingling, which is causing the problem. We can only hope there won't be a larger-scale Darfur as a result of this…**

**São Tomé and Príncipe (Lino and Paulo Silva Fernandez): Sadistic little twerps, aren't they? They enjoy bullying Brazil, mostly because they're jealous that he's Portugal's favorite. **

…**Oh, Switzerland. XD**


	6. Creating a Monopoly with paintball

**Another two weeks, another chapter! I remember when these things used to come out every week... or sooner... Darn it. Stupid homework x.x**

**Sorry it came late! I will work harder on this when I get the chance! And "when I get the chance" will explained in the endnotes. Because depression isn't allowed to hit until you finish the chapter. Yup. :3  
**

* * *

"Come to think of it," Portugal muttered, "where did I leave the twins…?"

Her roommate Monaco shuddered. "You should go look for them before they bring the whole house down."

"Pshaw, they wouldn't hurt a fly! What is there to worry about?"

…

A lot, actually.

"U-um," said Seychelles, eyeing the paintball guns nervously, "maybe we should get out of here…"

"Ve!" Italy agreed, hiding behind England.

"Nay, you must win them over with _amour!_" said France, giving Seychelles one final grope before approaching the boys. "_Hola_, or whatever language it is that you guys speak! Big Brother France wants to—"

He was promptly hit smack between the eyes and fell over unconscious.

One of the boys turned to the other. "_Hurra__, __matamos__ o__ aborrecimento._"

"_Bem feito, Paulo__! __Agora__ procurar__ nosso __irmão__._"

"_Mas__ espere__...__Porque__ não__ se divertir__ com__ esses idiotas__?_"

The other boy grinned. "_Você tem um __ponto._"

They turned to the other nations, an evil look in their eyes.

"Um," Paraguay piped up, "I think that's the signal for us to run."

* * *

Spain cracked open an eye. Something felt off somehow. He shifted slightly and realized there was someone else in his bed with him. "_Lovinito_," he muttered drowsily, smiling to himself, then went back to sleep.

Wait, what?

His eyes snapped open. That wasn't Lovi! The smell was all wrong! And the arms were gripping him too tightly! Carefully, he backed away to get a better look at his companion.

It was Belarus.

"Mm… brother… brother, let's get married…" she mumbled, snuggling against the Spaniard.

Spain barely managed to stifle a gasp. Holy hell, how had _she_ gotten in here? She must've mistaken him for Russia…

…_Dios_, he was sleeping in the same bed as Belarus! _Belarus!_ Oh GOD! He was still reeling in shock when the lights suddenly blinked on and a huge shadow fell over him. "My, my," said Russia, in an artificially sweet voice that made Spain shudder, "I didn't know you loved my sister so much, Spain~."

* * *

Mexico moved the terrier three steps forward. "Um," he said, "what do I do now?"

"It says 'Jail', you idiot," Honduras replied. "Obviously you just landed yourself in jail. Tough luck."

"What? That's not fair! How the hell is that possible? I didn't even do anything…"

"Guys," Uruguay pointed out, "there's a little alley to the side that says, 'Just Visiting'…"

"Well, of _course_ you'd go to jail," Guatemala cut in, ignoring him. "This is what happens to bad boys who run around causing chaos wherever they go."

"Y-you're just making things up! I don't believe you! I'm not in jail! I'm not!"

"Yes you are!" said Honduras.

"Well, whatever," said Peru, picking up the dice. He landed the hat on another square. "'Go to Jail.' Huh."

"Hey, wait a minute!" Chile cried. "That's _my_ piece! Yours is the car, remember?"

"No."

"Yes you do! Liar!"

"Is that so." Peru moved the hat to the Jail square. "Oh, hey, you're right~! Well, you can have my turn, and then after this round we'll switch back~~"

Chile glowered at him. Then he counted the number of squares it would take to get Peru's piece to the "Go to Jail" box.

"Please, can we stop fighting…" said Costa Rica.

"It's okay," said Argentina. "Boys will be boys."

"Damn it!" Ecuador muttered as he stopped the wheelbarrow on Boardwalk. Columbia smirked.

Chile cupped his hands around the dice. "Please give me a seven… please give me a seven…" he chanted as he shook them. "Please—let it—be—a—" He threw them on the board. "Seven!"

It was an eight.

"Noooooooo! Damn you!" he wailed. Then he noticed where the car had landed. "And this is your own property too! You don't even have to pay anyone! How lucky can you get?"

"Actually," said Peru, "it's your piece for this turn."

Chile blinked. "So?"

"So," he continued, "if that's _your_ piece on _my_ land…" He cleared his throat.

"HAHAHAHA!" Bolivia clapped her hands. "Well-played, Huayna! Ahahahahahaha!"

Chile scowled. "I hate you," he muttered as he counted out the bills. "I really hate you."

Venezuela patted his shoulder sympathetically.

"You know," said Guatemala, as Honduras and Mexico continued wrestling the terrier back and forth in and out of the "Jail" box, "this game is kind of fun. We should borrow it from America more often."

A dark look crossed Chile's face. "I _hate_ Monopoly."

* * *

Hungary cried out as a paintball sailed past her, grazing her sleeve. "Hey, watch it! I just had this washed!" she said indignantly. The twins giggled and raised the guns to her face.

"You think you have it tough," muttered England, who was now sporting a giant dark splotch on the left side of his chest. "What about the person it _didn't_ miss…?"

"Veeeeeee! Help me!" Italy screamed as he took off, flailing his arms about like a headless chicken. "Doitsuuuuuuuu!"

One of the boys fired a paintball at his feet. A moment later Italy found himself slipping on sticky green paint. "Waaaah! Help! Please don't hurt me I surrender oh please spare me I have relatives in whatever country you guys are from oh gosh don't shoot—" He crashed into Sealand and the two tumbled into a rosebush.

Paraguay whipped out his cell phone. "Pedro! Pedro, ya gotta help me! We're outside with a pair of psychotic little twerps shooting paintballs at us! Pedroooooooo—"

Uruguay hung up.

"Who was that?" said Argentina.

"…Wrong number," Uruguay mumbled. "Yeah. Wrong number."

Paraguay stared at his phone. "What? Pedro, you can't do this to me! I've been betrayed! PEDROOOOOOOOOOO!" He sank to his knees, tilting his head to the sky in anguish. "Why, Pedro? Whyyyyyyyyy?" He keeled over as a paintball nailed his vital regions. "Pe…dro…"

Switzerland reached for his own (non-paintball) gun, then realized he'd left it in his room. "Damn it!" He dove behind a random leafless tree as the twins turned their attention to him.

Except it wasn't a tree, it was Cuba.

"Oh great, way to go," the Caribbean nation grumbled. "I almost had them fooled!" He took off before the paintballs could get him.

Switzerland would've apologized, but he was too busy finding a hiding spot to care.

Prussia had dropped to the ground and was pretending to be dead. France, meanwhile, had revived. "Watch out!" he called to Seychelles, leaping to intercept a paintball headed straight for her. Unfortunately, he missed, and it hit her anyway. "W-well, thanks, I guess," she stammered as France suddenly grabbed her, sobbing.

"My beautiful Seychelles! Your face! _Mon dieu!_ _Je suis désolé, c'est ma faute, si j'avais été plus rapide_—"

That was when England knocked him out with a blow to the neck. "Shut up and stop molesting her," he said. "Seychelles, are you okay?"

"Um… sure…" said Seychelles.

"Veeeeeeee! Nii-chan! Help! It hurts! It huuuuuuuurts! Heeeeeelp!" cried Italy. When no one responded, he stuck his head out of the bush. Sealand shrieked as the thorns dug into his skin. "Nii-chan?"

…

"Spain… Spain… save me… damn it…"

Romano stumbled slowly through the hall, leaving a wake of multicolored paint. He'd miraculously survived the dash to the door and made it inside. Now to hide under the bed until the screams outside stopped! But wait… should he? After all, those idiots outside sounded so… helpless. And Veneziano was there too, damn it. N-not that he was doing anything for his brother! He was just fed up with the noise! Yeah! He was just heading for the stairs when a pair of arms came out of nowhere and pulled him into a closet. "CHIGIIIIIII!" he cried. "Rape! Rape! Spaaaaaaain! Help—"

"Shh! Romano-kun, it's just me!"

Romano gaped. "J-Japan?"

The black-haired man nodded. "Sorry to grab you so roughly. I'm hiding from Greece-san and Turkey-san right now. What happened to you? Why are you covered in paint?"

Romano was about to answer when the closet door suddenly opened. Japan gasped and tried to make himself as small as possible. Romano froze as a familiar head stuck itself inside.

"Hmm? Who's… there?" said Greece. His eyes fell on Romano. "Oh, hi R—" Then he spotted Japan. His eyes widened in shock. Japan. And Romano. Together in a closet.

By themselves.

He blushed. "S-sorry… did I… come in at… a bad moment?"

* * *

"Hmm," said Sweden, "if I do th's, mayb' I c'n move f'rward a littl'…" He wriggled like a worm to demonstrate. Seborga cheered as the Swede scooted forward about an inch.

"That's terrific! Do you think you could push me along like that? We're just a few feet away from a main shaft, it'll just take a little bit of effort and then we'll be free! I have to go to the bathroom…" He smiled weakly.

Sweden sighed. "It's n't g'nna be easy. But h're goes."

* * *

"Hey, do you hear something?" said Venezuela. Right on cue, there was a muffled yell and a thump.

Uruguay moved his thimble past the "Go" square. "Nope."

The rustling of leaves. A scream.

"Then what was that just now?"

"It's simple, really," Peru replied, rolling the dice. "The house must be haunted."

Another scream.

"…Really."

A clunk.

"Yup."

That was when Turkey suddenly appeared, clad in a white bathrobe and bunny slippers, with his mask still on. "Hey guys, have you seen a young man, about this tall, black hair, brown eyes, acts kind of ambiguous all the time?"

The Latin Americans stared at him.

"Oh look, it's a ghost," said Uruguay. "Maybe if we ignore it it'll go away."

"What the hell, you guys!"

* * *

"Do you think they'll find us here?" Iceland hissed, peering out through the leaves.

"Hopefully not," Norway replied. "I think we're safe." They were hiding behind some hedges, well out of the twins' line of fire. Norway was picking at the paint on his thigh as it dried and peeled off in little bits. "I hope this stuff comes out in the wash…"

They were startled by a sudden movement beside them. A moment later, a young man popped his head out of the hedge. "Oh my god, I'm saved!" he cried, trying to give them a hug. Iceland and Norway quickly backed away. "I've been chased by those two since the afternoon! Thank goodness you're here!"

Iceland leaned over. "Who is this jerk anyway?" he whispered to Norway.

"I think it's Brazil," Norway whispered back.

"Wait, did he just say they're after him?"

"I think so."

"Then this is his fault, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's all his fault."

They turned to Brazil, mild hostility flashing in their eyes.

"Well, I guess it can't be helped."

"Nope."

"Let's do this."

"Mm-hmm."

Brazil looked from Norway to Iceland and back again. "U-um… hi?" He gulped. "You're not going to help me, are you…"

* * *

"Yes! We're free!" cried Seborga. "Thank you so much, Sweden! You're wonderful! I'll be sure to treat you to gelato when we get out of here!"

"Mm…" Sweden panted. Who knew that Italian was so darn heavy? "Let's j'st get out 'f here f'rst."

"Yes sir!" Seborga led the way through the wider duct. "I know the way out! Haha, isn't it fortunate that I'm good with directions? I'll get us there in a WHOOOOAAAAA!" Suddenly the metal beneath him gave way, and he plumeted through the hole into the space below. There was a grunt of impact a moment later. "Oops! Sor—"

Then the hole widened and Sweden fell too.

…

"Now then," said Russia, smiling coquettishly, "you're not doing anything _perverted_ to Belarus, are you? She may be a crazy homicidal maniac, but she's still my sister after all~."

Spain gulped. He was trapped between a Russia and a hard wall, with no way to escape. (Holy shizz, where had that water pipe come from?) "B-but I'm telling you," he said, "I just woke up and found her there! I didn't do anything!" Slowly he felt around for something, anything, that he could use in defense. All he found was a windowsill and some dusty blinds. "Um…"

Russia fiddled idly with the water pipe. "I'm sorry, Spain, but I don't really believe you da." Spain shuddered at his sadistic grin. "You know what this means~~"

That was when a random guy suddenly crashed through the ceiling and landed on Russia.

Spain gaped. Then he beamed. "Yes! God must still love me after all!" He looked up. "_Dios_, thank you for saving me~! If I am forgiven for all my sins, please send a sign from above—"

The rest of his sentence ended in a strangled gasp as Sweden fell on him.

"Whoops," he mumbled. "S'ry 'bout that, Spain."

* * *

**I am not doing OC bios this time. But I just want to point out that Uruguay's name is Pedro and Paraguay's is Teodoro (Teo for short). So, in terms of human names, their "with P, without P" thing is reversed. XD**

**Oh, and apparently it's pronounced "your-uh-gwye." I hate eye rhymes.**

* * *

**This fic is officially on hiatus while I study for exams. It will continue afterwards, in mid-May/early June. Sorry for the inconvenience and thanks for putting up with me! :D**


	7. America the Star Wars Guy

**Hey guys! Sorry for taking so long to update! I've been... preoccupied. Yeah. That's the only way to put it. Hopefully I'll be able to update more often from here on. In the meantime, enjoy a (slightly shorter) new chapter of 101 Damnations! Hazzah! :D**

* * *

There was just something about Germany's tone that made America stop zapping lasers at the killer teddy bears and turn around to listen. The German was scowling like a pug, though unlike the dog, he was doing it intentionally and meaning every bit of malice that radiated from that frown. "America," he said in a commanding voice, "it's almost ten. You should stop playing your retarded games now."

"Awwwwww!" America whined. "But I was just getting to the…" He turned back to the screen. The bears had completely swarmed his character. "…fun… part…"

With a sigh, he trudged to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Germany was scary when he was mad.

* * *

Brazil's eyes widened as the two Nordics told him their plan. "You want me to act as the decoy? B-but…"

"Do it," Norway deadpanned.

"It'll work better than us being the decoys, anyway," Iceland added, giving the Brazilian a small shove. "Hurry up, I think they're reloading."

Brazil gulped. "O-okay…"

He straightened up and headed towards them, all the while trying to control his compulsion to run and hide under the nearest rock he could find. "_Lino__, __Paulo__, pare __imediatamente__, ou __eu __diria __Mãe__ que __você faz—_gyaaah!" He quickly ducked out of the way when the twins started firing at his head. "Oh my gosh I knew this was a bad idea! Norway! Iceland! H-heeeelp!" He turned around, but their hiding spot was now empty. Brazil stared blankly bush they'd been hiding behind. How on earth had they disappeared so f—

He was quickly snapped out of his stupor when one of the twins dropped his gun and tackled him. "Nooo! It wasn't supposed to end this way! I—I'm too young to die!" Then said twin clamped a hand over his mouth and began pinning his arms behind his back.

The other twin continued firing, but was soon interrupted when Prussia jumped out of his playing-possum mode and grabbed the boy around the waist, wrenching the gun from his hands. "Hahahaha! I've got you now, brat! I am so aweso—" The rest of his sentence dissolved into a pained grunt when the boy lashed out at him and smashed his heel into the Prussian's shin.

The other one, meanwhile, had somehow procured a long length of rope and was busy tying Brazil's wrists.

"Bloody hell," England muttered as he watched the carnage before him, "when will this madness end?"

* * *

After a quick talk with Germany, Spain was switched to Sweden's room, where he was happily (well, not so happily…) snuggled in the bed meant to be Belarus's. "I'm r'ly s'ry 'bout what happen'd, Spain," the tall Nordic mumbled.

"Ahahaha! No, it's perfectly fine!" Spain reassured him. "In fact, you really saved me… Russia had his water pipe and I was trapped—thank goodness you swooped in right then!" He was about to turn off the bedside lamp when the door suddenly burst open and a paint-covered Romano stormed in.

"You!" he barked, a wild look in his eye. "Where the hell were you! Have you seen what's going on out there! Why didn't you tell me you switched rooms! Do you know how scary Russia is! Where's—"

"Whoa! Whoa! Calm down, Lovi!" cried Spain, rushing up to him. "Tell me from the beginning."

"What, are you nuts? There's no _time_ to do that! V-Veneziano's stuck outside with those—those paintball gun-wielding little twerps—two of 'em—"

"What's that?" said a voice behind him. "Two 'little twerps', you say?"

Spain winced. Romano turned around. Portugal was standing there in her pajamas, an eyebrow raised in skepticism. "You're not talking about my twins, are you?"

Romano and Spain exchanged glances. "Uh… y-yes?"

* * *

While trying to sleep, America suddenly sat bolt upright and flung the covers off. "I SENSE," he screamed, "A DISTURBANCE IN THE FORCE!"

Germany groaned. If he had a kid, he would never let him play video games, ever.

* * *

Greece and Japan stood in the closet together, facing each other awkwardly. "Um," Greece finally said, "was I… disturbing… you and Romano?"

Japan, his eyes glued to the floor, frantically shook his head. "N-no! I saw him in the hall and wanted to ask him what was wrong!"

"But… you were in the closet… together…"

"W-well, that was because…" Japan blushed. "I-I didn't want you or Turkey-san to f-find me…"

"Why not?"

"B-because… w-well…" He looked away. It would be bad to complain about how they were always fighting over him… "B-because… I… was… preparing a surprise for you guys! Y-yeah!" His face flushed. "S-so I didn't want you to walk in on me while I was working… haha…" He crossed his fingers and hoped Greece would buy it.

Luckily, the Mediterranean nation seemed completely captivated by his story. "Oh, if… that's so… sorry. I'll… wait patiently… then… and not bother you…"

The moment his friend left, Japan mentally slapped himself. "Someday, I really should tell them…" he muttered to himself, as a feeling of deep shame settled in.

* * *

The Latin Americans were retiring to their bedrooms when Argentina suddenly stopped halfway up the stairs. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "I left my sandals outside!"

"I told you taking them off was a bad idea," Chile chided. "Never mind, I'll go look for them. Make sure Huayna doesn't booby-trap my bed, okay?" He thrust Peru at Ecuador and turned back down the stairs.

As he opened the door, he was suddenly greeted by a clamor of shouting and wailing. "What on earth is going on out here?" he muttered, looking around. Out of the blue, something slammed into the side of his head. Chile felt something warm and wet flowing down his ear. "What the…?"

He turned to the left and saw Príncipe waving at him, a paintball gun held in the air. At his feet was a badly-bruised and paint-splattered Prussia, once again reverting to playing dead. Chile looked down. The paint had dribbled onto his shirt, staining it an ugly mauve.

And suddenly, it was like something within him just snapped. First he was forced to room with his stupid brother, then he got creamed in Monopoly by said brother, and now _this_? He rounded on Príncipe, trembling in rage.

"You… little… _fucker…_"

* * *

"But I DO sense a disturbance in the force!" America insisted. Germany just shook his head.

"Bed. Now. Don't make me repeat myself," he snapped.

* * *

"Where is Portugal's room, anyway?" said Iceland, poking his head through a doorway and immediately regretting it when he saw a half-naked Morocco. "If only we'd paid more attention to Switzerland…"

"Don't worry, I have a good feeling about going in this direction," Norway replied. Suddenly he stumbled. "…Hey, that's weird. I thought I tripped over something."

"Eh? How could it be? It must've your own feet; there's nothing there." The two continued down the hall, oblivious to the figure sprawled on the floor behind them.

Lying prone after taking a bad fall, Canada sighed. "Someone help me up… please… _please_…?"

* * *

Luckily, reinforcements arrived before Chile succeeded in killing anyone. While Spain restrained the irate Andean nation, Portugal rounded up the twins and confiscated their paintball guns. "Darn it, I leave you two for one moment and this is what happens?" she snarled, grabbing them by the ear. "We're going to have a long talk right now, boys."

"Darn it!" Chile spat, struggling in Spain's grip. "The buggers! I'll teach them a lesson—lemme go, Dad! I'll—"

"You'll calm down and speak to them nicely," said Spain sternly. "They're just children. You shouldn't—"

"You're a pedophile! A _pedophile!_ I don't care what you say! You'd probably let me hit them if I was small and cute too! Darn it, darn it, darn it…"

"Y-Yamai, calm down…" said Paraguay weakly.

"Shut up! This has gone on for long enough! Do you know, those brats keep wreaking havoc at my place! I ought to sink their entire puny pathetic little country, I do!"

Brazil bristled. "Well, I'm _sorry_ they keep escaping from my house every time they visit! _You_ try keeping tabs on them all the time!" He sighed. "But please, don't be angry anymore. Let's all just go and get some rest, okay?"

Chile glared at the twins. They stared fearfully back at him. Finally, with an angry huff, he wrenched himself away from Spain and stormed off. "Ah! W-wait!" Spain hurried after him.

"Thank goodness, it finally ended," said England as the shaken nations slowly picked themselves up. "Everyone okay?"

"Ve, I think Sealand needs some help," said Italy, peeling the boy from the rosebushes. "Ooh, that looks really painful…"

Switzerland looked disdainfully at his stained pajamas. "This stuff better be washable," he grumbled.

Brazil and Portugal's eyes met. "Uh oh," Brazil gasped when the latter grabbed him by the shoulder. "M-Mãe, I—"

"And you and I need to have a talk as well, don't we?" Portugal smiled. Brazil shuddered. "About keeping an eye on your siblings…"

Paraguay winced. "Good luck, João," he mumbled. "We're praying for your safe return."

* * *

America finally settled down after a cup of hot chocolate. "The disturbance is gone!" he proclaimed as he dove under the covers. "Gootuh nackt, Germany!"

Germany facepalmed. "Don't talk to me in German ever again."

A moment of silence passed. Then:

"Germany?"

"What?"

"Now I'm too full to sleep."

* * *

"Ahahaha… I haven't been mentioned even once in this darn fic so far," said Lithuania.

**(Now you have! :D)**

* * *

"Hehehe… s-say… I have… one more physics joke to tell," France wheezed.

"Just shut up and walk quietly," barked Switzerland, who was helping him up the stairs.

France ignored him. "So… all the great scientists up in heaven… decided to play a game of hide and seek…" he began. "Einstein was the seeker. He counted to a hundred and turned around… and there was… Newton standing in the middle of a square drawn on the ground… one meter by one meter… and so Einstein said, 'I found you, Newton!'… But then Newton said, 'No you didn't… I'm one Newton per square meter… I'm a Pascal! So you… found Pascal, not me." France chuckled to himself, except it sounded more like he was choking on a fishbone. "Get it? One Newton per… square meter… a Pascal?"

"…" Switzerland let him fall back down the stairs.

* * *

**Sorry. Physics nerd right here. I haven't recovered from IB yet. XD**

**Poor Canada. **


	8. Day 2:You mean it wasn't just a dream?

**H-hi guys! Sorry, it's been a while... please don't throw stuff at me, it makes me sad... B-but anyway, I eventually did finish the next chapter, see? I-I hope it'll appease your anger at my not updating since, like, forever... So, yeah. E-enjoy...**

**Just to clarify things, this takes place the next morning.**

* * *

England was frolicking with his fairy friends in a great big daisy field when the sky opened up and a torrent of icy water suddenly rained down on him. "Bloody hell!" he screamed, flailing his arms about. He looked up. The sun was still shining as brightly as ever. Shrugging, he continued bounding along, until a sharp pain suddenly exploded in his forehead and he felt himself tumbling…

He hit the floor in a mess of bedsheets. "Jerk England!" he heard a high voice shriek as the field disappeared, replaced by an ugly blue carpet. He tried to get up, but he was too tangled in his blanket and as he twisted his head to look up there was a loud crack.

"GYAAAAAAAAHHH! MY NECK!"

"Jerk! Serves you right!" Sealand whacked him with the bucket again. "That's what you get for not waking up! Now get up before I pour more water on you!"

"Ugh… Peter, what do you want?"

"I'm hungry!"

England groaned. "Push off, you little twerp, I don't feel like making you food today."

"Not you, I want Sweden to make me breakfast! But I don't know where he is so you have to come find him with me!"

"And if I refuse?"

Sealand scowled. Then he jammed the bucket over England's head and stormed off.

"Oh, bloody hell…"

Luckily, Australia didn't ask too many questions when he found the Brit in a tangled heap on the floor, with wet clothes and a bucket where his head should be.

* * *

China didn't even want to know how Yong Soo had gotten his hands on a megaphone. All that mattered was getting away from that awful noise reverberating down the corridor, first loud, then soft, then loud again, as though the Korean was running back and forth in the hallway. Which he probably was.

"Annyeonghaseyo! Annyeonghaseyo! Wakey-wakey, everyone! Annyeonghaseyo!"

Grumbling about torture and Chinese finger traps, he dragged himself out of bed and peered out of his room. He found himself face-to-face with a giant grey circle with a cone around it. It took him a few seconds to realize exactly what had happened, and by then it was too late to get away…

"ANNYEONGHASEYO ANIKI~~~~~! BOY, YOU SURE ARE A SLEEPYHEAD, AREN'T YOU?"

The sheer volume sent China reeling backwards, and he crashed into Denmark standing behind him."What the hell, Yong Soo?" he cried as he picked himself up. "Are you out of your mind aru?"

"Wow, that's a cool megaphone you have there!" The Nordic nation commented, grinning. "Mind if I borrow that for a while?"

South Korea beamed. "SURE THING! SPREAD THE JOY!"

"Hey, thanks!" Denmark smiled to himself. A certain someone was going to get the wake-up call of his life…

…

"Unfortunately for you," said Norway, when the Dane finally arrived at the dining table, "I got up long before you could pull that sort of thing on me."

"Darn it!" Denmark whined. "I'll get you tomorrow for sure!" He lifted the megaphone. "FOR SURE, MY LITTLE NORGE, SO YOU CAN LOOK FORWARD TO—"

"Your tie's in my porridge."

"NO! NOT MY FAVORITE STRIPED TIE! I WORE IT TO COPENHAGEN LAST LAST YEAR!"

"…Denmark?"

"YES?"

"Shut up."

* * *

Russia cracked open an eye. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was getting crushed by something. Something fat and Italian-like, if he recalled properly. (He would have to ask those cute little hair-curl brothers about that later.) He yawned and sat up, slowly taking in his surroundings. Oh yeah, that's right; he was in the room he shared with Spain, da! He glanced at the bed beside his. No doubt said Spaniard would still be peacefully snoozing away—

Wait. Wait wait wait. What was that?

Did Spain just mutter, "Marry me, brother" in a feminine voice?

Russia gulped. This was not good… As carefully as possible, he lifted the sheets and couldn't help but shudder when he saw a sleeping Belarus underneath. He slowly withdrew his hand and backed away. He'd almost gotten to the door when his sister suddenly stirred.

"Nnh… Brother?"

He turned and ran.

* * *

"Hey, hey, don't let him get to you," said Prussia as Germany vehemently stabbed his fork into a hunk of cheese. "Just think about all those less tolerant nations out there who could've been his roommate instead."

"I kind of wish one of them could take my place," Germany grumbled. "If we're lucky, he or she will snap and finally get rid of that loudmouth once and for all."

"Aww, come on, it's not that bad! His brother's a nice person!"

"What does his brother have to do with this? And you weren't there when he started making those video game noises again," Germany grumbled. "Seriously, though, who in their right mind would play games first thing in the morning?"

"Haha! Don't worry about it! He's just being an idiot, as usual! Kesesesese!" Prussia sat down beside his brother, grabbing a slice of wurst off Germany's plate. "By the way, I was coming here earlier and it was so scary! Someone put a bowl of cereal on the table and the spoon was just moving by itself! I think we have ghosts here or something."

"Hm. Maybe it was that guy you always hang out with, the one who lives near America. You know, the one no one ever remembers?"

"Huh? Mattie? Can't be, he's sitting right across from us. Don't you see him?"

"_Bruder_, are you feeling alright? There's no one—oh." Germany blinked. Now that he mentioned it... He waved apologetically to the blond man pouring maple syrup over his pancakes.

Then it sank in. "W-wait," he said, "who's that eating the cereal then?"

…

America wondered why everyone was staring at him. Were they jealous of his Cap'n Crunch? No, their expressions didn't seem quite right… He shrugged. They were probably just hungry. He waved to a passing Hong Kong and received another terrified look. What was going on? Did he have BO or something? He sniffed under his arm. Nope, nothing wrong there… Maybe there was something on his face! He got up to check in the bathroom mirror—and now it was his turn to stare in horror.

His face wasn't there.

"Oh my god!" he cried, gripping the sides of the mirror in disbelief. It had to be a trick! It had to! He quickly looked in an adjacent mirror. Still no face. No body either. "Nooooo!" he screamed, banging his head against the mirror. "How could this happen? Why can't I see my reflection?"

…

"There, that should get rid of him for a while," said England as he lowered his wand. "Now to go downstairs and—huh?"

From the window, he spotted (a perfectly normal-looking) Sealand bounding across the courtyard. The boy looked up and made a face at him as he passed by. "Jerk England!" he shouted up at him before running off.

England gulped. "Oh bugger," he mumbled as he hurriedly tucked his wand out of sight. No one needed to know he'd just screwed up another spell… right?

* * *

"Yo, Liet!" Poland called as he burst into Lithuania's room. "Let's have breakfast together! I made a nice loaf yesterday, you should totally try it! It's got, like, a whole ton of pink sprinkles on the top and it looks so cute!"

"Oh, um… s-sounds fantastic…" said Lithuania, trying not to look too green at the thought of pink sprinkles. "By the way, what's with that outfit?"

"This?" Poland swished his skirts around. "Isn't it, like, so pretty? I look like one of those strong-arm German girls!" He leaned in. "Don't tell anyone, but I found it in Germany's closet. Before he switched rooms, I mean. And, like, it's totally tailored to fit a guy! I wonder who it was made for…"

* * *

"BUT NORGE, I SOUND SO GOOD WITH THIS MEGAPH—AAAAAAAAHHH! NO! STOP! I-I'LL BE GOOD, I PROMISE! J-JUST STOOOOOOPPP!"

* * *

Hungary awoke to a faint rumbling noise. Making sure she had a good grip on her frying pan, she sat up and looked around, arms held up in case she got jumped. With France, you could never take too many precautions. She spotted said Frenchman face-down on the floor, apparently still passed out from last night's events. And the source of the rumbling…

She tried not to burst out laughing when she saw Austria sprawled on a chair, his head tilted awkwardly, snoring like an old man on a hot afternoon. He must've sneaked in here in the middle of the night to make sure France left her alone—that, and the fact that it was pretty hard to keep a straight face around Poland in his negligee. "Oh, what the heck," she said to herself as she stretched her arms with a yawn, "I'll just let him sleep…"

But before she left the room, she made sure to take a picture.

**(A/N: Author does not particularly care for Austria/Hungary. It just happened to work out that way this chapter.)**

* * *

Canada heard the door open and felt a familiar presence in the room. "Alfred?" he said, turning around. "Is that you?" Strangely, there was no one to be seen.

"Psst! Dude, I'm right here!"

Canada jumped. So did Germany and Prussia.

"A—_Alfred?_" Canada blinked in disbelief. Was that weird disembodied voice really his brother? "Where are you?"

"Right in front of you, dude! Somehow I turned invisible! Hey, don't—ow! Watch it! You almost poked out my eye!"

"Sorry," Canada replied, withdrawing his hand. "What happened to you?"

There was a pause during which America probably shrugged. "Dunno. I was eating cereal and then it… just happened."

Prussia and Germany exchanged glances. "England," they said at the same time. "Kesesesese! Jinx, you owe me a beer!" the albino added.

"Poor thing…" Canada tried to pat America's shoulder but missed completely. Then an ugly thought came to mind. "But, you know… somehow I think this really suits you…" _Ha! Now the most obnoxious and well-known has turned invisible… thank you, karma!_

"…Did you just think something mean about me?"

"Eh… n-not really." Canada smiled innocently. "Come, let's figure out how to get you back to normal."

* * *

Finland's jaw dropped as he took in the scene before him. The entire room was a mess of napkins and silverware, with spoons and spatulas scattered all over the place. There was even the occasional knife stuck inches deep in the wall. The drawers had been pulled open and their contents thrown up onto the floor—straws and skewers and a can opener stained with something that didn't quite look like rust… Overhead, a megaphone hung from the ceiling on a little noose made of rubber bands. A crumpled figure lay groaning in the corner—with a start, Finland realized it was a very dazed Denmark. He had his tie shoved down his throat and a piece of duct tape over his mouth. There was a bowl clapped over his head and something runny dripping down his face. Finland shuddered.

And, sitting calmly in the middle of all this mess, eating nonchalantly, was Norway.

Finland gaped. "U-um…"

Their eyes met. Finland took a tiny step back. He tried to look away, but Norway had him trapped in his gaze like a deer-trapping headlight. Finally, the Norwegian spoke.

"Porridge?"

A moment of silence passed. Then Finland nodded dumbly. "Okay…"

* * *

**It's been a while since I wrote anything, so I hope this is still up to standards! Thank you to all those wonderful readers out there for: 1) Reading this chapter and 2) waiting for this chapter for so long even though I said I'd have more time to work on it over the summer. Review please!  
**


	9. Bad things always happen in the morning

**Hi.**

**It's... it's been a while. A long while. I moved across the country and started university and all that. But I still managed to find time to work on my fics (read: I'm goofing off instead of studying or doing homework)! So I hope you enjoy this next chapter as well, and... I really should go have breakfast now. It's past noon. Happy reading!**

* * *

"Ahhhhhh…" Brazil sighed, "I survived getting chewed out by _M__ã__e_… I survived…" Still in a sleepy daze, he got out of bed and lumbered to the bathroom, only to find the door locked. He sighed again and was about to return to bed to wait when a voice from inside suddenly caught his attention.

"I know, right? I was like, 'Whaaaat?' when I first heard it too! But apparently it's true…"

His eye twitched in annoyance. "Teo? Is that you?" he said, knocking on the door. "Are you _on the phone?_"

"Ah, hang on, João just woke up," he heard Paraguay say, before continuing in a louder voice, "Yeah, it's me! Hey, how're you feeling? Ma'am Portugal wasn't too harsh on you, was she? To be precise—"

"Goddamnit, I'm asking you a question! What the hell are you doing talking on the phone in the bathroom?"

"Ehhh… yes, I'll be out in a little bit, don't worry~!" There was a pause. "Now, as I was saying, Pedro…"

"What the hell's wrong with you?" He banged harder on the door. "Don't do unnecessary things in there! You're sharing it with someone, you know!"

"Ah, really? Yeah, you wouldn't suspect he'd actually be hot for little boys too, not with all those girlfriends he's had over the years… sometimes I worry for… Haaaaaahhhh? No way!"

Brazil slumped against the door in exasperation. "This jerk…"

* * *

When Singapore woke up, it was dark in the room. Thinking it was still early, he rolled over to grab his watch from the bedside table. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw that it was already ten.

Wait, what?

The next moment, Japan found himself being shaken awake by his panicking roommate. "Kiku, it's bad! The sun didn't rise today! Shit, we're gonna die! Is the end of world!"

"Whuh… what? Who?" Japan blinked blearily. "Victor?"

"Ya, is me, _bodoh!_ Wake up, we might all be in danger right now! Come on!" He tried to pull Japan out of bed. The two fell in a crumpled heap on the floor.

"Why… why's it so dark…?" Slowly, Japan got up and shuffled across the room to the window. He drew the curtains—and Singapore could only stare in dumbfounded astonishment as sunlight flooded into the room.

"Ah, I think we solved our… problem," said Japan with a yawn. "Don't worry, Victor, the end of the world wouldn't come that easily…"

Singapore giggled awkwardly. "R-right. I knew that… I-I was just joking around _la_…"

"Mhm."

* * *

"Doitsu! I brought you coffee!" Italy announced as he bounded into the room. "Nii-chan almost drank it, but I saved it just in time! Ve, let's have breakfast together!" He headed for Germany, only to have his friend whirl around and bark orders at him.

"Feli! Stop right there!"

Italy froze. "Ve—! I'm sorry! I won't do it again!" He continued blubbering while Germany walked up to him (taking a roundabout route around the table instead of straight for him). "Ve… what'd I do anyway?"

Germany patted his head. "Nothing. You were about to crash into someone, that's all."

"Ve…?"

Italy stared in front of him in confusion. The only people he could see were Gilbert and that strange blond person that showed up from time to time (and here Canada glowered at him upon sensing what he was thinking), but they were still a distance away from him. He was about to ask Germany when a voice said, "Dude, I'm _here_."

While Germany restrained a freaked-out Italy, Canada followed the sound to his brother, a marker in his hand. "Sorry, Alfred," he said, popping the cap off. "Maybe we'll be able to find you more easily if I put some kind of mark on you." He reached out a hand to feel for America's face.

America gulped. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?…" Nonetheless, he held still and let Canada scribble on him. "Well? Does it work?" he said as the latter pulled back with a look of satisfaction. Prussia and Germany could only stare speechlessly. "Hey."

"Um," said Prussia, trembling with the effort of trying not to laugh, "i-it… _works_, alright…"

Germany averted his gaze.

"Ve… it's…" Italy blinked, for once not quite sure of what to say.

"What? What is it?" America's eyes narrowed. "All right, Mattie, what'd you do?"

The American had two thick black rings drawn around his eyes and a handlebar moustache above his lip. On his chin, Canada had scrawled a few lines to indicate a goatee. "…You drew something stupid on me, didn't you." He touched his face. "Is this permanent marker? It better not be… Mattie? Hey, Mattie!" But Canada was staring at him with a strange look in his eye. If America didn't know better he would almost say it was… mischief? Sadism? But that wasn't right… Matthew wasn't that sort of person…

Finally, Prussia couldn't hold it in anymore. "BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" he chortled, slapping Canada on the back. "Very nice, Mattie! Hahahahahaha!" Germany facepalmed. Italy cocked his head perplexedly.

Canada smiled. "_Fufufufufufu…_"

* * *

"More porridge, Tino?"

"Ah, y-yes please."

"And you, Berwald?"

"No thanks, 'm full."

"Emil?"

"Just a little bit…"

Norway collected their bowls and went to the stove, sidestepping the mess of silverware on the floor.

"Do you want bread with that?" he asked as he ladled porridge from the pot.

"Oh, o-okay…" said Finland.

"I'll have a slice too," said Iceland.

"All right." A few moments later, he returned to the table with their food.

"Th-thank you, Lukas…"

"Yeah, what Tino said."

Silence fell in the room.

"Um, Lukas, c-could you pass me a knife?"

Without batting an eye, Norway wrenched out one of the knives embedded in the table and handed it to Finland.

"Ah… ahaha… th-thanks…"

"Mm."

Another moment of silence.

"U-um, Lukas…"

"Yes?"

"Wh-what are you g-going to do about… um…"

Finland glanced toward the corner of the room, where Denmark was still lying incapacitated. A dark look crossed Norway's face.

"…Something."

"Oh. O-okay then…"

More silence.

"L-Lukas?"

"What?"

"Y-you're not going to—"

"No."

"Don't be stupid, Tino, there's like zero privacy here, who the hell would—"

A dangerous look flashed in Norway's eyes.

"Gah! Wh-what? I was g-gonna say kill! Not—"

Norway stood up.

"Ohyaaaaaaa!"

"…Oh crap."

Sweden took this as the cue to grab his wife and disappear. "N-noooo! Emil! D-don't die!" Finland cried as he was dragged kicking and screaming out of the room.

Norway sat back down. Iceland gulped. "Um… N-Nore, you know I was just kidding around, I d-didn't really mean…"

The Norwegian sent him an icy glare. "_Really._"

Iceland flinched when his brother rose from his seat. "O-ohhhhh crud, oh crud, oh crud oh crud oh crud oh—AAAAAHHHHHHH!"

* * *

"Eh? What's that? He's—oh, that's not good. B-but don't worry, at least he didn't hear you, right?" Paraguay's phone beeped. "Oops, hang on, got another call coming in." He pushed a button. "Hey, it's Paraguay, with the P, as in philosophy—"

"Teo, get the _fuck_ out of the bathroom _now_ or I'll—"

"Oh, heeyyyyyy João! Hey, what're you doing calling me when you're right outside the—"

"If you're not using the bathroom, let someone else use it, gosh!"

"But I _am_ using it… see, I'm talking to Pedro and he's—"

"Don't make me go in there, Teo!"

"Wha—I thought you _wanted_ to get in the bathroom! I'm confused! Are you or are you not going to use the—"

"You have precisely ten seconds to get out of there or I'll break down the damn door and _drag_ you out of there."

"…Oh."

"…Yes. Starting now."

"…João, are you mad at me?"

"_What do you think, fool._"

"Wah, don't be mad! I-I'll hurry! I'll hurry!"

"You better." Brazil jabbed the End Call button and sat down in front of the door. "I'm watching you, Teo."

"You're what? You perrrrrrrvert!"

Brazil facepalmed. "Just—just get out of there." He sighed. "How that idiot managed to survive all these years on his own, I'll never know…"

* * *

"Look, it's another useless segment!" said Belgium. "I always thought my debut would… h-have more purpose…"

"Don't worry," Netherlands reassured her. "The author's only been writing about those crazy nations who've had weird things happen to them. It means we're the only sane ones."

"…But she just wrote about us."

"…What?"

"She did. Look. Our conversation's being recorded right now, see?"

"…"

"Aw, don't cry, brother…"

* * *

Under normal circumstances, England would've just said, "Well, screw this" and gone on like nothing had happened. But they were all living together in one house and things weren't so easy to hide anymore… and what went around would probably come around… tenfold. So England, with a heavy sigh (and a tranquilizer gun in case things got out of hand), set out to find that unlucky bastard who had ended up on the receiving end of his spell.

(Meanwhile, America was getting rainbows and unicorns painted on his forehead.)

After getting chased away by a half-dressed Morocco, he was starting to wonder if this was such a good idea after all. But no; he had to persevere! Somewhere out there was a poor hapless nation with three arms, or a hairy Hitler moustache, or Nyan cat where his face was supposed to be… he couldn't just let them continue suffering like that! (And anyway, it was Morocco's fault for answering the door shirtless in the first place.) So he continued on his mission, determined to find whoever it was and set things right.

(Canada looked thoughtfully at the rainbow, wondering if he could somehow fit "I LOVE SASKATCHEWAN" over it.)

He came across a half-open door. "Hello? Anyone inside?" No response. He peered inside. "Anybody?"

Spain was lying on the floor, snoring softly. Apparently he had rolled over in his sleep and simply fallen right off the edge of the mattress. England noted (with some disdain) the silly smile on his face; no doubt he was fantasizing about a certain macaroni wanker brother…

Well, everything looked fine here. England was about to leave when Spain stirred. He watched the Spaniard wriggle around, trying to find a comfortable position on the cold hardwood. Then he noticed that Spain's pillow had somehow migrated under the bed.

Back to Spain fidgeting under his blanket.

Back to the pillow.

Back to Spain tossing and turning.

… Being a good Samaritan just this once wouldn't hurt… would it?

Ignoring his apprehension at helping out his former nemesis, he crossed the room and knelt down by the bed. "You better be grateful for this, wanker," he muttered as he retrieved the offending article. Maybe this would make up (at least partly) for his little… spell incident…

It was then that Romano suddenly showed up, popping his head through the doorway. "Oi, tomato bastard, you dead or something? When're you getting up?" He was about to step inside and viciously shake said tomato bastard awake when it finally hit him what he was seeing. His jaw dropped.

Spain sprawled messily on the floor. Unconscious.

England crouched ominously by him.

With a tranq gun.

And a pillow.

Leaning threateningly over the Spaniard.

With the pillow.

Spain unconscious.

Tranq gun.

Pillow.

England.

An awkward silence fell.

"Y-y-you… why're you—you… y-y—"

And that was when Spain, still half-asleep, grabbed England and hugged him to his chest. "_Buenos dias_, Lovi~~~~"

* * *

"Congratulations, Alfred," said Canada as he led his brother to a mirror, "it's a Nyan cat."

America scowled. "Damn, that's an ugly Nyan cat."

* * *

**Oh shit. I was totally **_**not **_**prepared for a Nyan cat. I only have boy and girl names thought up, damn it… **

* * *

**I… have run out of OC profiles for the moment. Which is bad, because it means I'm not making every nation feel included yet! Goddamnit. DX**

**Morocco: He's a guy. He's just sensitive about getting stared at. Don't go thinking England had his daily dose of boobies so early in the morning.**

* * *

**The next one won't take so damn long, I promise. DX  
**


End file.
